Draconem Vigilat
by FrostedFire
Summary: Harry James Potter, after the Second Wizarding War, is stuck. He's tired of his job, angry with his friends, and has lost both Ron and Ginny to circumstance. However, a sudden plunge down the Ministry gives him a new chance at the world./ Harry Potter teaches a new school. Features time-meddling that must be fixed. Not entirely relationship based, but some will exist.
1. The Lift

_please consult the end for notes xoxo_

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><p><strong>Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.<strong>

**Hamlet**

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><p><em>"War was over, and had been won. Consequently, the war had taken up into the hearts of young men, women, and creatures alike, leaving their bodies still thrumming with the heat of battle. It was a disease, perhaps, which had strung the children of the fight with an overwhelming sense of apprehension, forcing their minds towards the aftermath with hatred brimming over their purpose. The illness, with its crawling arms and legs, dangled over the edges of each face, and forced growling snouts towards the broken up visions of Hogwarts, watching as the broken and unclasped homes were scattered among the ashes. And as we know, from war is created hatred, and from hatred is born fear. Fear is our one killer; fear is what has sent us into the dark, created the laws which many cannot understand."<em>

_- Luna Lovegood, Head of the Quibbler_

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><p>Harry slammed down the newspaper with a frustrated look plastered on his face, his hands instantly moving to tear it up. Of course they had written about it, about the war which they had very nearly lost, completely due to lack of preparation. But he did not expect Luna, of all people to have written such a precocious article without having consulting her friends, especially those that started the very same war.<p>

Was this betrayal? Had he been betrayed by a very close friend, who he had trusted with his life?

In hindsight, he should have expected that. She had become outspoken during war-time, especially when given the rights to be in charge of her own sector during the Battle of Hogwarts, as they had begun to call it. Could it have been pride that cajoled her to print such a dangerous statement?

But was it, in essence, a statement which he could consider to be vile? Jet green orbs hastily scrambled to look over the still uncrippled article, attempting to place logic within the confusing lines. What laws? Had something been created that he was unaware of? That could not have happened; he was already in his third month as Auror, and was positive that most decrees were sent to his desk before being made law, just by Kingsley's request.

Yet the thought of such rules would shine light to what Luna was attempting to portray, especially with his silly thoughts fading into the background. It was ridiculous, really, that he thought that the sweet Ravenclaw would even do something like that. She was loyal, as loyal as a lion was. An honorary Gryffindor. And what did she even have to gain? Neville would never stand for it, and seeing as they had something going on, he was quite positive that she wouldn't give up love for money.

At least, that was what he thought.

The thoughts led to even more ideas, each more bizarre than the last. Could she actually mean that it was his fault that the Wizarding World was still wrapped in fear? Or was it simply a ploy to get more readers for the Quibbler? Had he looked too far into it? Was this because he and Ginny had broken up?

That, in all actuality, would have made sense. It wasn't an amicable breakup, with him walking in on her with Draco Malfoy, of all people, and her continued denial of there ever being something between the two of them. When he had brought up the topic with Ron, who was supposed to be his best friend, they had immediately broke off their seven-year relationship, just because of a scarlet woman who could no longer stand who he had become.

At least Hermione was still with him, always loyal.

So one could expect his immediate skepticism in response to the newspaper, and perhaps even understand why he would be confused as to the general reasoning. It was only typical for a man to feel betrayed, especially after being betrayed multiple times.

Only natural.

He kept this thought primary in his thoughts as mid-morning passed, nothing coming to his desk but boring office papers. They had been sifted through, acceptable signatures provided, until, at long last, it was time for his lunch break. Harry cast a frustrated gaze towards the clock which loomed over his desk, glancing around for the date. Noting that the odd clock happened to supply the info (for some reason, he did not question it), the man shuffled out of his cubicle.

Wednesday. That meant he would get to eat lunch with Hermione and Luna, the pair who had become very close to being his best friends. Although Luna was nothing like Ron, and could not offer the amusing male-bonding that Harry was lacking, she was a good replacement. The mood was always light, albeit weird. But there was no tension, no arguments between anyone. It was funny, sweet, and the type of thing he certainly deserved after the energy-zapping morning. Especially as he needed to figure out exactly what Luna meant, since he felt that it would impact the rest of his day at work.

Or so he supposed.

With his two friends working on complete opposite sections of the Ministry, it fell upon Harry to choose which to grab first. And that, of course, usually led him to decide who had vexed him more. Despite what many believed, he found it better to grab the more irritating person first, or whoever he needed to have a serious discussion with. That way, they had to walk longer, even though they might feel like he values their company. Sure, it was a petty thought, but after Voldemort died, he was in need of some form of entertainment. And with the pair of them attempting to figure out a method to his madness, there was some sort of amusement.

Perhaps it was Slytherin of him; he cared little. He just wanted the grim amusement that came with watching the squirming, watching each little twitch.

Yes, that did sound a bit too Slytherin to him.

Brushing away the thoughts with the palms of his hands, the Chosen One wandered along the long hallways, occasionally sparing a glance or two to the many moving portraits, which greeted him with solemn nods and gentle winks. He did his best to return these, taking time to mention that their paintings looked to be in order, and that he was quite impressed with the way that the beige wallpaper matched their eyes. It was standard, yet kept everyone happy with their lives.

But there was one which had dragged him from his reverie, and threw him about the area. It was a small square, a portrait that had not caught his eye before. It was like it had attempted to draw the eye away from it, like some old hex Hermione had tried to explain to him. He couldn't really recall anything about the charm, but whatever it was; the little square must have been doing it. The painted stars were not twinkling, but they did shine, and he almost felt the urge to look away, and see a different object. It even forced his feet to slow, the steps coming to a stop.

Next to this portrayal stood a rather porky old man, who seemed to be preoccupied with other things, to the point that he was rather frustrated that Harry was standing directly in his view.

"Good sir! Move yourself, sir! I cannot count the stars! I cannot…"

He was pushed away, like the earlier thoughts of Harry's day. Instead, fingers traced the painted little castle, which seemed to him like a replica of Hogwarts, but larger, and much more alive. While the old school seemed to radiate with magic, this one seemed to be created by it. By magic! Imagine that!

And to get this from a picture!

Was he mad?

Perhaps he was, though he supposed that the thought wasn't technically able to be created simply from viewing a portrait. It must have been the light, a trick that came with his impending terror at what Luna had said.

Yes, that was it.

But fingers did stretch out once more, running along the canvas with a certain sense of fear which opened his senses a bit wider. There it was, as plain as day. A humming, or something like it, pulsing. Did he dare remark how strange it was to another painting, with the hopes that it would be explained to him? Though he wasn't exactly sure if that was going to aid him in his fruitless search, or the understanding of what strange things were happening, it was thought to be a relatively good idea. Almost with excitement, the wizard parted his lips, stepping back with a half-frown on his face.

"Excuse me," was the hesitant beginning, which then followed into, "Sir?"

The figure stared at him, looking like a disgruntled Santa Claus, a fact that Harry remarked with both amusement and pity. For a few moments, they both stared at each other, trying to decide if a reaction was necessary, and if conversation would ensue. Luckily for the curious man, it did, and in a hasty way which piqued his interest even more.

"Yes, yes, what do you want?"

Arms crossed, and a wand was produced, loosely swinging around his fingertips. They were still throbbing from his encounter with the strange picture, and therefore trembled, causing him to nearly drop his wand. It wasn't exactly the portrayal he had wished, though no ground was lost, despite what he was thinking.

"Do you know…? Erm… What's the subject of that little beauty over there?"

His garbled words took on a hasty spark, which was thought of as strange, but continued to give him the upper hand. They did, after all, continue to offer the man a reason to speak. After all, he did seem to be as enthralled with the stars in the artwork as much as, or more than, Harry himself was.

Perhaps more so, for he barreled into the words without a second glance, staring at his companion with a sense of longing in darkened eyes. "The one above me, with the stars? Ah, yes, my boy, the stars. That is the school, the one over in… Oh, where is it again? I can't recall. Anyway, it's a fancy school. You know, I went there myself, when I was a boy."

"Another school? Not Hogwarts?"

The man sounded British, not having a foreign accent laced within. He could have very well been as mad as the night, talking about a school that, as far as everyone else was concerned, didn't exist. Another place, that wasn't Hogwarts! Bah! It wasn't possible! Sure, a school outside the realms of the very notable establishment, like in Brazil, or wherever the Weasley's had mentioned. And he was quite aware of the schools in America, and the other more notable educational places, like Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. But for there to be another school like Hogwarts, producing people similar to him!

"Of course! I didn't live close enough, you see, but the Headmaster was perfectly fine with that. He even was impressed that I had chosen to go there instead! He had gone to Hogwarts, as you should know, and told me that he hoped everything was to my liking. Perfectly fine, save for the strange boys who kept saying things like 'dude', or even the girls having new trinkets."

Harry felt his brows furrow, especially at the man's repetition of a word he thought was primarily American. However, nothing was said. Despite finding that the entire explanation of the school was stupid, he found himself actually interested. Maybe he could ask Hermione about it, and made sure to keep the thought in mind. After all, they were going to lunch…

Lunch! Cursing to himself, a quick excuse was made, and the man tripped down the hall, practically throwing himself in the direction of the 'Editor' section of the Quibbler's misshapen offices. For some reason, they insisted on being placed on the same floor as the Aurors, which, although nobody had any objections to, was a strange request in itself, often leading to arguments. But no complaints ever actually made it to the Head of either office, simply because they found it to be agreeable, occasionally. On easy days, there was the rare occurrence of a game of Exploding Snap, which brought all of the employees to their innocent days at Hogwarts.

If only the Quibbler didn't house so many strange characters.

At the point of murmuring this aloud, the young man continued to propel himself down the lengthy distance between their departments, almost regretting not getting Hermione first. With her, he only had to grab the lift, and quickly make his way to her desk. It wasn't difficult, and certainly didn't have intriguing paintings and insane portraits.

And they didn't have Octavia Augustus.

Luna had mentioned her name being created from her parents' obsession with Muggles, specifically the plays created by William Shakespeare. And thus was born her name, even though Hermione had attempted to explain the actual people to both females. But none were able to grasp it, not even Harry, who had grown up with Muggles. He supposed it had to do with his learning of magical things, and not having to know what happened in the silly, ordinary world.

Octavia Augustus had thoroughly agreed with him, and proceeded to enlighten him of the many ways to remove a beating heart from a person's body, magically.

That, in short, was one of her kinder statements, despite the pale, soft features she managed to possess. It puzzled him to no end, especially after asking her outright what her issue with him was. The question was answered with an arched brow, as well as a single gesture which she was reprimanded for by Luna.

She never did apologize, and if he hadn't so desperately needed to speak with his Ravenclaw friend, he would have asked Luna to simply meet up with him to get Hermione, or had Hermione deal with the meeting.

But, being who he was (the brave Gryffindor, of course), Harry had stridden in, sharply shoving aside the door which sheltered the oddities from the world.

"Oh, Harry!" exclaimed a wizard, who he recalled to have a name beginning with a 'Z'. "Luna was just talking about you! She said you'd be here."

"Oh, she did? Lovely. Do you know where she is?"

The man, who had primarily taken up his sight, luckily, responded with a negative, which therefore plunged Harry into the world of the strange, which he wasn't looking forward to. After offering the young man his thanks, the Auror bowed his head, and strode into the main chamber, gazing at the velvets which marked the walls and the ceiling.

Almost immediately, he managed to walk into a young woman. And, to coincide with his rather rotten luck for the day, it was the very person he had been hoping to hide from. "Madame Augustus," he murmured civilly, and cursed his luck with thoroughly, almost wishing that it was Ron in her place. He'd rather speak to his ex-best friend right then, rather than the psychopath!

"Please, Harry, just call me Octavia. We've been acquainted plenty of times before, don't you recall? Perhaps someone managed to slice open your head, and pick out pieces of your brain. Would you mind terribly if I took a peek, maybe just to set it straight?"

"Erm, no, but thank you, Octavia. Maybe next time?"

She looked rather depressed at this, but shrugged nonetheless, and twitched her nose. "Luna's in her office, since you're looking. And I'll hold you to that."

Almost forgetting to ask how she knew with his hasty attempt out, Harry jumped towards the oaken door of his friend's study, hitting it with the palm of his hand. Knowing that it was both harsh and obviously in distress, the petite witch did not give him long to wait, exiting from her abode at the exact moment that her friend hit the door again, succeeding in hitting her face.

"Eurgh! What did I do to deserve that, Harry?" the female exclaimed, rubbing the spot that had just been assaulted. Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Octavia Augustus, you get your nosy little arse out of here. Come on, get! Get! Harry and I are busy!"

"Busy trying to get to lunch, I wager," the other woman murmured, but did escape back to her bat cave, allowing the pair to pass unharmed.

"I'm really sorry about that, Harry. I know you think she's a piece of work, but she's a sweet girl! Give her a chance!"

"A chance?" he scoffed, and stared at Luna with suspicion in his eyes. "She's out to get you! I swear, there's something off in her head. Really."

Despite Luna's continued attempts to cajole him into approving of the obviously deranged female's actions, the Chosen One continued to adamantly detest her. This lasted a few good minutes, until, at long last, they came to both the lift (which had to be on the Quibbler's side, of course) and his reason for picking her up first.

A moment passed. "Luna?" Another second.

"Ah, you've gotten around to asking now. What's wrong with it, Potter?"

She always used his surname when amused, and with a confused look in his glistening orbs, he plunged ahead. "It's confusing me, of course. There haven't been any new laws passed, and there…"

He had trailed off at her gasp, which muffled the cool, crisp voice of the intercom announcing each level as they passed. His hands were tightly gripped around the handle, and Luna seemed to be standing up straight, ready to lean onto him for support. She did so immediately after the outburst, not even bothering to apologize. Halfway thinking that she was pregnant or something, his gaze traveled to her mid-section, which resulted in a smack upside the head, as well as the explanation.

"But, Harry, there have been! So many laws, too! We thought you knew!"

"No, that's wrong," the wizard countered. "I would've known. Kingsley has me in charge of that."

Her hands went to the back of his head again. "No, Potter, he doesn't. Educational Decrees, you dolt."

But he was already talking. "I mean, if it's something against me, I'm fine with that. You and Hermione can just eat lunch without me, and I'll do more work. But I would've liked a note or something proclaiming that you all of a sudden hated me. At least Ron had the sense to –

"Harry Potter, you listen to me right now!"

The lift's doors slid open with that, and as they exchanged their spots with a rather confused Arthur Weasely, the two ventured into the hallway, wandering towards Hermione's offices. It was during their trek that she attempted to explain the situation to him, quite concerned as to why he had not heard of such things before. This made Harry admit, rather reluctantly, that he hadn't kept track of many newspapers, even though he had thought that he had. Apparently, the Quibbler and the Prophet both were prohibited from talking about it.

But what was he supposed to read, if his most reliable sources were being told what to post?

It was in a patient tone that Luna listed out the other, smaller papers, though he had long since tuned her out. Instead, the wizard was thinking about the strange painting, and the school that was portrayed in it. The stars, the man had said. Could the name have something to do with stars? Maybe that was why there were so many on the painting. He knew that when Hogwarts was portrayed in color by Dean, he had made sure to involve the houses. Maybe there were things about stars…

"Hello, Hermione. Were you coming to meet us?"

He blinked, once to remove the portrait from his view, and twice to fully admit his friend's appearance into his mind. She was standing with her hands on her hips, brows furrowed in the usual feature of contemplation and accusation. The witch tilted her head at the vacant stares appearing from both, nodding, her voice husky with effort once she attempted to speak. At first, Harry thought that it was primarily because she was exhausted, but at further looks, her eyes were rimmed with red.

"Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, Harry, fine. Just…"

"What did he do to you?"

She glared. "Don't you dare assume it was Ron, Harry."

"It was, wasn't it?"

"You wish, Potter. Leave him alone. What did he do to you?"

They had begun to walk then, with the conversation occasionally pausing, and picking up once more. Luna had, by then, stepped between the pair, so that they were glaring around each other, attempting to pick up the fight where they had begun.

"He refused to believe me, that's what!"

"Harry, Hermione, just stop, please."

"Hush, Luna. Potter, I've a bone to pick with you."

"A bone?"

"Or three."

"He didn't know about the laws, Hermione."

"Luna, shut it. What the hell did I do?"

"You instantly picked on my fiance, that's what you did!"

With a huff, their lift opened up, a frustrated Octavia escaping. She gave them a sweet little grin, despite the glare she had recently been giving the ground. In her arms rested a perfect little replica of a school, one that looked like Hogwarts, but had slightly different towers. Harry would have done a double take, but he was too vexed by his friend to simply care.

"How was I supposed to know that he was your fiance, huh?"

"When in disgrace, with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state."

"Luna," Hermione finally asked, her brow creeping a bit higher. "What in the world are you reciting Shakespeare for?"

"To get you both to shut up! I just wanted a nice, peaceful luncheon!"

"Nothing's peaceful with Hermione around!"

"Harry!"

"Will you both shut up?!"

"Conceit, in weakest bodies," announced another voice, this one softer, and much more pleasant to listen to.

"I'm sick of this! Stop picking on Ron! It's your fault Ginny left you!"

"Excuse me?! My fault?!"

"Conceit…"

"It isn't his fault!"

"Of course you'd side with him!"

"Conceit… The fault is in the stars… Conceit…"

"SHUT UP."

"The fault is in the stars… Conceit… Stars."

Lights flashed in the lift, and suddenly, they were plunging into the abyss.

"Stars…. Stars… Stars… Stars…"

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><p><em>this is the only time this series i will post a disclaimer: i do <em>not _own harry potter nor would i like to. i assume it's a hell of a lot of paperwork. _

_yes, this is multi-chapter. also, i've taken a great deal of liberty with certain relationships. in addition, i am not a weasley-basher, and this is not a weasley-bashing story. certain things just happened because they had to happen. in note of the relationship between draco and ginny: i apologize if you don't approve, but it's not like they're featured in the story that much._

_aurors have to do as much paper-work as the police. i do hope you don't find that too hard to believe._

_please review/follow/favorite/send me cute messages k thnx._


	2. Lost in Time

_please consult the end for notes xoxo_

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><p>"<em>Lost in Time"<em>

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><p>There was no crash, despite the logic of their downward spiral. Instead, there was silence, prodding at the cracks in a sort of diseased way, searching through the shocked absence of words. Harry Potter could feel it seeping around him, taking up the black with a treacherous gaze.<p>

How he hated it.

It reminded him of the Malfoy's dungeons, of the shrieks and screams endured once locked inside. It was suffocating. It was terrifying. His breathing became difficult at the thought, the feeling of his tongue being trapped in his mouth beginning. He swallowed a few times, shallow gulps of air escaping from his mouth. As his heart began to pound harder, a sudden question came to his mind: where the others feeling this as well?

Hands reached out to tug on the arms of his friends, almost forgetting the argument that they had been having a few moments before. There was nothing more important at this moment than verifying the safety of his two friends. Except, you know, figuring out where exactly they were, and what had caused the strange crash. Weren't the Ministry lift's certified to be safe? Did they not have some sort of magical airbag like cars did?

Luna's cooler hand was suddenly pinching onto his right arm, and Hermione batted him away. After a moment, she whispered, "Lumos," in a calm tone, her face still red from rage. Ah, so she was still mad at him. Perhaps he shouldn't have instantly blamed Ron, as he was always a sore subject between the two. Their shared friend sighed angrily, leading him to believe that his initial assumption was correct.

She did not look at Harry when she observed the lift, unlit and wavering slightly, as if held along a single string.

"Potter, what did you do?"

"It wasn't me!" he insisted, pulling gently on their blonde companion's arm. "I did nothing."

As the light was jabbed closer into his face, a small arch of the brow brought Luna back into the world. She had been thinking, for a few moments, on the moments that had passed before they were plunged into a cold darkness. They had begun by arguing bitterly over the usual items, as she had attempted to distract the pair with poetry. Hermione had expressed surprise, and Octavia had seemed critical as she escaped from the lift. That was nothing different. However, as they had regained strength in their argument, a soft tone was heard among the fight...

And it was in the middle of the argument. Obviously, whatever had been stated during the insults would have caused their sudden descent.

Her eyes narrowed in the darkness, fingers crossing along one another as the idea completely formed. Then, she stood poised, an Alice in Wonderland, grinning as widely as the Cheshire Cat. Instead of interjecting, Luna chose to simply stare blankly at her friends. To them, it was creepy enough to warrant response; it always was. They were rather predictable.

It certainly gathered the attention of her two friends; both had become transfixed by her silence at their antics, and the grin only served to make it worse. What was wrong? Her interruptions always came early in their fights!

She waited until they were paying absolute attention, as if unable to speak. When it finally seemed that the bickering pair was going to put aside their argument for a brief moment, she parted her lips. "It was the voice."

There were a few moments of absolute silence, their gazes intercepting and passing in the barely lit atmosphere. Hermione seemed poised to interject, before thinking back on what had ensued. If she had not been so angry, she would have listened better. So, what had happened before she was angered?

They might not have been as alone as they originally perceived.

Her conclusion was the same as Luna's was, leaving only Harry to stand confused among them. Yes, there had been another person in their presence- but where were they now? And what did that individual being have to do with the sudden actions?

"Come on, Harry. Up and at 'em," Hermione muttered towards the former Boy-Who-Lived, watching as he attempted to wrap his head around the idea. Their statements, as usual, carried logic. However, his last few months were difficult in comparison to the war. Cooling down from the fight generally put his brain activity on the back burner.

He was able to fit together the pieces, despite it taking a few extra moments. It wasn't a long time before the trio was prodding at the cool edges of the metal, poking fingers through the ridges that let the air in.

They noticed two things: a rush of wind, and the feeling of a continuous fall. Had they not dropped into something yet? How far did the Ministry go?

Was it even still the Ministry? The cool voice was not reassuring them that it would be okay, and having been in the lift the last time it broke, she was present the whole time, attempting to be reassuring.

"We could be under a magical shutdown."

"I doubt it. Kingsley would have sent a Patronus to us in order to let me know how much paperwork I had to do."

"Magical. Shut. Down."

_Oh._

"Perhaps Hermione is right," Luna offered. "But then, why would 'Lumos' be working?"

They all stared blankly at the wand, which still offered a small amount of light. "Perhaps because it is a commonly used spell it still works. Maybe it was automatically programmed to work in order to continue keeping everyone calm."

"Try something bigger." Harry nodded to Hermione as he spoke, furrowing his brows. "Lumos Maxima, maybe."

She uttered the words, and to their excitement and dismay, the wand light instantly went out, while something even worse occurred. The carriage came to a sudden and rapid stop.

"_You have reached your destination,_" the Ministry woman called out, just as the three workers climbed from where they had landed, tangled up. "_Please exit the lifts so that they may return to the next set of pupils. Thank you, and have a _magical _day!_"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes upwards at this, finding it both very ironic and very annoying. Where was her voice a few minutes ago? Lingering in the atmosphere?

Ridiculous.

Waving a hand for his friends to follow, Harry yanked open the caged door, blinking as light suddenly stabbed into his eyes. _I wonder_, he thought, glancing at the barrier as it fell back, _did that have a protection spell? It must have, to keep light from the holes._

Hermione seemed to be questioning it as well, but refused to cast another spell, unless something as dangerous happened like the last time.

Instead, they followed the now-leading Luna, who curiously tucked her wand behind her ear, pulling hair forward to disguise it. A small frown of curiosity was placed on her cheeks, and eyes drifted around their surroundings. They seemed to be in a rather large stone structure, which was both empty and had a small chill waving through it.

The walls were bare, roughly cut in the way that many castles were. Did they end up in some sort of castle? Perhaps. That was how it felt, when Harry took two steps out of their original box. His footsteps echoed plainly- there was no carpet.

Only stone.

Strangely, it seemed that the room was supposed to serve as a cell. The ceiling was very low, where the lift was touching the top of it. The walls stood cramped, and upon closer inspection, seemed to be oozing a sort of green slime. He supposed their transportation that minimized the space, but Harry decided that it reminded him of his cupboard. It was cramped, in a sort of way that was comforting. Maybe it was the magic- the slow thrumming that he had begun to pick out was dancing along the edges, making their transportation seem like a Muggle object in comparison.

Everything changed when Hermione, finished with her inspection, stepped out of the small boundary of the lift. It vibrated slowly, and began to vanish, making a strange noise as it did so.

Luna, Hermione, and he all jumped into action. Hermione uttered a few spells that she thought would help, waving her wand in distress. As the words poured from her lips, Harry was attempting to jump into the slowly rising object. A few curses were spat out, and he continued, his friend charming the object to become stationary. The final witch, however, was taking a different measure. Her wand was tugged rapidly from behind her ear, muttering at a rapid rate as she attempted to remove the wards preventing the charms from taking hold.

"It's not working!" Luna exclaimed, her pale face reddening with the effort. "What if the Crumple-Horned Snorkack did something to the cage?"

Hermione pushed back a strand of her hair, glaring at the other female. "Something obviously did it, Luna. It wasn't that, though. This was magical tampering, not mythical."

"Who could've- or would've- done this?"

They all thought, furrowing their brows in an attempt to vaguely assume who it was. Voldemort was dead and gone, and so many different laws had passed that would track Death Eaters (as well as those that carried the mark) for the rest of their lives. Nothing could be done without the Ministry observing. No Weasley was left to pull a prank like this, and Neville would never do something that would cause fear. He had experienced too much during the war to take pleasure in a prank.

Harry snorted. "Bet it was Ronald."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "Leave off of him!"

"Could you two stop arguing so that we can focus! We haven't another way back, if you couldn't figure that out. Honestly!"

Harry, who had already fallen through the material twice, let out a hiss, aiming a kick at the lift. The movement went straight through, leaving him stumbling forwards, then back as he regained his footing. "Fine! Hermione, I apologize for insulting your fiancé, as well as getting us in this mess. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

"I'd be happy if we could get this to work," Luna mumbled, her wand poised as the final pieces began to disappear. "Even my wards against Disapparation aren't working!"

"Luna! Do you mean to say that we can't Apparate or Disapparate from this room now?"

"You wouldn't have been able to before," a new voice announced. All three whirled around at that, standing in a defensive pose as the person slowly appeared in their line of sight.

It was a ghost, a dark-skinned woman with a strange American and French accent. She appeared to have floated through the wall, and was now watching with a gentle air. Luna quickly bowed her head to the woman, always prepared to show respect to supernatural and wiser beings. The other two followed, and the woman's grin grew.

When she began to speak again, her soft statements seemed to glow in the air, and Harry noticed her state of dress. She was wearing some sort of tribal outfit, or was it a voodoo thing? Hermione would know; he would ask if they ever escaped from this little endeavor.

"The room is warded, as our students always enjoy trying to leave the school after hours. That is why the door is so hard to find; our Headmaster wanted to have the highest degree of safety."

"Headmaster?" Harry asked, tilting his head at the word. Dumbledore? Did they stumble through some time portal, only to find themselves in his parents' time?

No, that was _ridiculous_.

"Yes. Headmaster Kratos. Did you expect someone else? It is likely not their time, if so. You are the new teachers, correct?"

Harry shook his head, confused. They weren't teachers of anything, not since the DA. He was just trying to live his life, one step at a time. And now this? Who in Merlin was this Headmaster? Was this a school?

"We weren't expecting to be here at all," Hermione said, stepping forward so that it was known she was speaking for them all. "We were trying to leave the Ministry, but somehow got stuck here."

The ghost looked at them with a sudden sense of fear. "Are you Muggles?"

"No, we're magical. Wouldn't we have freaked out already if we weren't?"

"Not where I'm from," she announced. "We see ghosts all the time, and run ghost tours."

Hermione shook her head slowly, rubbing her fingers together. Harry noticed this, and tensed up a bit. Was there something that should cause terror? All he saw was a curiously different ghost, and a strange room. This was their only way out, now.

"Where are you from?" Harry asked, shoving his spectacles back over his nose.

The ghost looked startled for a moment, before realizing she hadn't quite introduced herself. "Oh! I am Filipia Forthwith, of New Orleans. I do apologize for not introducing myself before. I assumed that you were invited here. Who are you, then?"

"Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, and Hermione Granger, and I'm sure you can tell where we're from."

"What time, though?" she asked, tilting her head. A sudden glide forward sent the three back, and her warm chuckle attempted to close the gap again. "Ah, wait. You will let me guess, won't you? If you are Harry Potter... It is likely 1999 or so."

There was confusion in Hermione's eyes as she nodded, while Luna seemed amazed, and Harry irritated.

Before they could say another word, she spun on her heel (levitated, rather), and glided towards where she had come, where a hazy door began to form. The others trailed behind her, each in various states of confusion. Harry was a bit enraged at this sudden occurrence, but decided that, as he did enjoy the taste of adventure he had been missing for some time, it was worth following her. He turned his head, watching as Hermione followed with a small chuckle, attempting to make her thoughts work. Luna, however, did not seem troubled.

The door, once they took the steps towards it, seemed created with stone as well, made to blend seamlessly into the surroundings. It was obvious why they did not see it before; all of the spells surrounded it to make sure that it was undiscernible. Was that for the students, too? Or them, as the captives?

Moreover, why had Harry not reacted, with all of his Auror training? Was he under so much stress that he forgot? He didn't know himself. All that he understood was that there was nothing as bad as Voldemort, and he was getting a bit bored with the environment of his life. Nothing exciting happened.

And now, he was being reckless.

"I will take you to the Headmaster," Filipia announced, guiding them out of the chamber. She took a quick right, almost disappearing through the corner. The trio scampered after her, attempting not to stop at the sudden appearance of decor.

Suddenly, Harry found himself reminded of a much stranger Hogwarts. There were paintings and photographs pressed against the stone walls, tapestries and doors riddling the hallway. A deep blue carpet guided them down a few hallways, trimmed with gold. He could barely keep track of where they were traveling, too shocked at the faces peering down at him.

It wasn't like his home. Hogwarts was colder, and always decorated in hues of red and gold. The hallways there were always large, with stretching ceilings that were both damp and cool. Staircases were always heard, and then there was the voices and sounds that always echoed. Here, wherever this place was (as they hadn't gotten an answer yet), was silent. The roofs seemed to be much larger, and wherever he looked, there was silence.

And then there were the paintings.

There were people, to begin. Some were old, some young. Not all were ones he recognized, or even from years that had passed. He found one portrait that portrayed a man in his eighties, bald and wrinkled, but his date of birth read '2019' in big script. The others depicted animals, stretching towards the sky with outstretched paws. Blank canvases also riddled the walls, all in different sizes.

It was all so strange, and although he felt like something should be said, nothing was voiced.

"Madame Forthwith?"

Luna spoke, in between her little wide-eyed glances around the area. Hermione was too busy taking internal notes to talk, and Harry was thankful that she decided to speak. He was taking his time to puzzle out why they were there, and where to escape to if attacked.

"Yes, Miss Lovegood?"

The ghost moved so that she was still guiding them, but able to view the young woman that spoke. A small smile graced the living witch's lips, and she attempted to voice her concern. "Do you believe that there is any way to return us? We were not aware that we were to become teachers. In fact, we have jobs already."

"Well," she murmured softly in response, taking the left turn in front of them with grace. "Therein lays the problem for you three. I will ask the Headmaster to explain once we arrive. Is that alright with you?"

Luna nodded, and wrapped her arms around her two friends. "Of course."

They were silent until Filipia presented them to a portrait of Mount Olympus, the landscape taking up an entire dead-end. A few dots mingled here and there along the horizon, and it seemed that Hermione recognized a few, as she was murmuring their names beneath her breath.

"Hermes, Dionysus, Apollo! It's a perfect painting! What do you use it for?" she asked, pointing out each one as they began to move towards them, getting larger. It reminded Harry of Ariana Dumbledore's painting in the Hog's Head, and how the DA used it during their final year at Hogwarts, as well as the Battle. "It's really done well."

Filipia seemed prepared to answer her question when Hermes seemed to float down from the mountain, winking at the strangers before wandering back. "For meetings," she responded, before stepping neatly into the piece of art.

The other three exchanged a few looks, but Harry was determined to follow the ghost's lead. He stepped into the painting, suddenly awash with the feeling of cool water and air. Instead of finding himself submerged in air, however, he noticed that he was standing in a luxurious marble room with his two other friends, the ghost, and a strange young man, who seemed excited to see them.

In a warm voice, he spoke, words hitting the air definitively.

"Welcome to the Cadmus School of Arcane Magic!"

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><p><em>i really appreciate the notice that this story has received, as well as the followsfavorites. it really made me smile. i hope that you enjoy this installment, and don't find that the quality has gone down (it may well have- these chapters were written months/years apart)._

_it's a bummer; this chapter is shorter than the last one by a few hundred words. oops._

_a review or two would be nice, but i know it takes a little bit to come up with something, so you don't need to go out of your way to do so. have a lovely weekend!_


	3. Deleted from Time

_please consult the end for notes xoxo_

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><p>"<em>Deleted from Time"<em>

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><p>"Never heard of it," Harry stated dryly, stepping up to the wizard with narrowed eyes. He held out his hand with the end of his words, stiff and regal. Behind him, his two friends were eagerly scanning the room, both holding a loose grip on their wands. It was almost a setting out of a portrait; the room was very large, possessing a great deal of gold and white. If anything, it was definitely what was expected after wandering through the picture outside.<p>

There were books stacked along lightly colored shelves, pale chairs and sofas offering a strangely comforting feel. A fireplace was crackling in the corner, and the stranger stood in the center, observing them with bright eyes.

He was nothing like Dumbledore, and for that, all were grateful.

As they settled, wands were lowered, and hands shaken. The young man stepped back, and observed their greeter with a level look, while the stranger beckoned for the ghost to come closer. They exchanged a few, quick statements, which Harry had unluckily missed.

The blonde man was silent for a moment, likely a bit proud at Harry's outburst. If anything, he was taking another dramatic pause before responding, his crystal gaze steadily pounding into the other man's bright green. "Good, Mister Potter. We've done well, then."

Hermione smirked a bit at this, leaning over to whisper something into Luna's ear. As Harry noticed this exchange, he resisted the urge to groan. It had to have been about the man standing in front of them. He was extremely young for a headmaster, though he had only ever known elderly ones. The wizard was likely in his late twenties, with some flawless hair gene and chiseled features that he was certain many adored.

He couldn't forget the scruff, either. Nor could he blame him, as the stranger was very pleasant to look at. He almost forgot the questions that were poised between his tongue and lips, nearly distracted by the marble features. A statue could not appear as glorious!

This strange wizard gratefully took the hand, before guiding everyone towards a floating sofa, gesturing from them to sit. They did so with a little flustered motion- Hermione swept to the other side of Luna, who always sat in the middle- leaving the grinning stranger even happier.

"Well, I'm quite proud to see you all here. It seems you've accepted our teaching offers, which is wonderful, to say the least."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, her tone venomous. "There was no _offer_. We were brought here despite our wills."

"Despite your wills?"

Luna nodded, placing a cool hand on Hermione's arm. It seemed that she understood Hermione's pain, while Harry simply sat silently, debating what to say. "The lift," she clarified. "We were on our way to fetch lunch, and it decided to take us here."

"And you never received a message asking you to teach? Not from an old man," he lifted his hand to a height. "About this tall?

While the girls shook their heads, he found himself staring blankly at the headmaster. An old man? He had seen someone who fit that vague description earlier, talking about the school. And what had he done?

Oh.

"Erm… Yeah, I reckon I did."

"Headmaster, Professor Elvius has returned. Perhaps you could ask him, and simply answer their questions? I'm sure they're confused," Filipia interrupted, her ghostly form flickering gently by the couch. Hermione nodded thankfully towards her, and it seemed that the wizard took his companion's advice, as he plunged ahead in a sort of lecture.

"Very well. Do you have any knowledge of time travel?"

Hermione nodded excitedly, which prompted the man to go on. He wasn't familiar with the witch, however, who had immediately latched on to the items that she knew, and attempted to vocalize precisely what they recognized from their lives. "I have extensive knowledge of Time Turners, Professor…?"

"Kratos," he responded gently. "Merlinus Kratos."

He was struck with shocked faces, each of the trio finding their jaws slackened by the gentle statement of his presence. Merlin! They were with _Merlin_! Hold on a moment- he didn't look that old. In fact, he looked to be a wizard in his thirties, not an old blighter with a beard.

Merlin must have noticed their looks, because when he spoke again, it was with a much more amused tone. "Yes, that Merlin. Obviously, I'm a great deal better looking at this exact moment, but it is still I. But alas, that is for a different time. For now, we are here to discuss the school's time-lock function, as well as why I cannot permit you to leave straight away."

"Why not?" Hermione asked quickly, her tone dropping despite having met one of her idols. "What's so important that we must stay?"

He smiled, and his crow's eyes seemed to elongate a bit. "I mentioned time, as well as time-lock. Do you know what the latter means?"

It was at their shaken heads that he spoke once more.

"If only we had managed to scrape you from the timelines. However, Fate told us it would be detrimental to the normal patterns, and Mister Potter here is practically a fixed point. That can be discussed and debated later, though. Where was I? Ah, yes. A time-lock is a sturdy magical ward. It is quite literal in meaning; the wards used are under the influence of time. The procedure is quite delicate, and takes many years to practice. Hogwarts was initially my goal, but Salazar had already left, leaving the others dangerously suspicious of my behavior. So, with my mentor's help, a new school was created."

Harry decided that the similarities between the new school and Hogwarts were very vast, coming to the conclusion that both Slytherin and Merlin had missed it greatly. He would, too, if he as ousted from the place.

"And why would we choose to stay here, then? Hermione and I were Gryffindors- there must be _some _sort of clause or decree against them. In addition, only one of us is a pureblood!"

Merlin looked aghast, shaking his head. "You would assume that we would have done something so cruel? Or that I would be this prejudiced? Whatever happened to your timeline?"

Luna, who had stayed silent until them, offered a shrug. That luckily prompted the headmaster to continue his speech, this time without an interruption.

"A time-lock serves in a similar way to the Muggle-Repellent charms. Imagine that the world is completely and utterly flat," he murmured. "Now, choose the correct terrain for this world. Is it really flat? Of course not. There are ridges, pebbles clenching onto one another. Picture some of these pebbles stacking on top of one another. These are planes. Your world functions on the first planes- which is how Muggle-Repellent charms work. The magic around your pebble attempts to delete its existence from the minds of Muggles. They do not have the key to enter your home. The key, of course, is magic."

"Now, Cadmus functions on the second plane. The second plane is underneath the first plane, and not on any Muggle maps. The lift functions as our pathway between the two planes. Why the second plane, though? That is where the matter of _time _enters."

Luna tilted her head, now chewing lightly at the tip of her blonde locks. "It's easier to cut yourself off from time when you aren't placed within its limits."

"Close," Merlin replied, eyes bright. "I knew there was a reason that we sent for you, Miss Lovegood, and I do hope that you will choose to stay. There are very few ways to remove yourself completely from time when you exist as a fixed point. Hogwarts is a fixed point; if you use a Time-Turner there, you simply reverse the hours, and you are required to bat away from yourselves. The time-lock, however, is different."

"So you only exist in one moment!" Harry stated triumphantly, proud of the confused looks present on his friends.

The wizard tapped his nose, gazing at Harry with a sense of pride. "Exactly. Let me place Miss Lovegood's words in my own format: it's easier to cut yourself off from time when you do not exist in it. That is what the time-lock does. We have one direct present that we consistently return to, which is in medieval times. For 28 hours, we are trapped within the past. Obviously, all charms are used so that our students do not go adventuring. But here is our problem."

The three gazed solemnly at one another, realizing what the dilemma was. They had likely time-locked the building as soon as they entered. Merlin must have assumed that they would say yes, and by the time that he had realized that they were not there of their own free will, it had been too late for anything to be done.

They were trapped for 28 hours.

At least he would be able to return them at the exact time that they left. They could each get back to their boring, horrid work…

But he could stay, and he could teach… Oh, why would he go back when he had that opportunity? He would be in charge of young children, of telling them what they need to do to succeed. He was rather good at it, and enjoyed it. Anyway, it certainly beat filling out loads of paperwork.

What would his friends do? Leave, back to their friends, family, and… men? (It was then that Harry realized he had forgotten Luna's recent fling with Neville, which made him feel quite guilty.)

He had found his thoughts wandering so much that a great deal of conversation was missed, as Luna was currently politely asking as to what positions were even offered to them.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts for Mister Potter. I have heard extensively from one of our teachers about the young man's prowess as an instructor for that subject, and we currently require someone a bit more versed in dueling, as our last professor happened to be incapacitated by one of our younger pupils. Miss Lovegood, you have the opportunity to choose between three subjects that I believe you would do strongly in: Divination, Magical Theory, and Magizoology, which is our school's version of Care of Magical Creatures. As for Miss Granger, you were offered the position of Ancient Runes, which I have heard you enjoy," the headmaster announced, now gazing at them with narrowed orbs. "I would like to know if you are aiming to pursue any of these positions immediately, as I would like to have my teaching staff completely solved by the end of the time-lock."

That wasn't very long, then. Luna stilled between him and Hermione, frozen. He knew that she would love to teach, especially when given three different subjects to choose from. She could easily play to her strengths and choose Magizoology.

He was surprised, though, when she hesitantly placed her hand on Hermione's arm. "I would like to view the school as a whole before I decide, and I do believe that Hermione would like to as well. I hope that isn't much trouble for you, Professor."

"It is no grand deal, Miss Lovegood. Mister Potter, do you have any objections?"

"No," Harry responded. "But I have a question, as well as a few doubts."

The great wizard nodded his head, and stood, with the ghost at his heels. He noticed Hermione starting at the sight of her, but having forgotten her as well, simply shook his head. They followed them back through the portrait, and into the vast hallway.

Merlin was careful when he turned his head, watching the trio with a calm and level gaze. It was as if he had retreated into himself, but it was possible that he was simply shy, and found that he had said enough before. Or he was waiting for the question to be asked.

The Boy-Who-Lived opted for the second choice, and lengthened his strides so that he and the headmaster were walking together, leading around his two friends. "Who was it that mentioned me to you? And how did you choose us among much older candidates?"

There was a pause where he noticed the man nodding to a few portraits, his lips thinned in silent debate. Obviously, he wasn't exactly keen on telling Harry exactly who it was. He could understand that, and possibly respect it. However, he himself wasn't too keen on knowing that a possible enemy could have invited him here with the idea to murder him.

"A friend, Mister Potter."

Was he quite sure that it was a friend? With the end of the war had come an influx of non-British wizards practically claiming that the Wizarding War was nothing but a plot to get more support. Death Eaters, too, rose to the challenge, and added themselves to his list of growing enemies. Being the Chosen One wasn't that great.

He wasn't going to voice all of this, though. His concerns were not strong as to break him out of character (or what had become his character). Instead, he pleasantly remarked, "Please, do call me Harry. I am thinking of joining your staff here, once I decide whether or not this stranger is out to murder me. I'm a bit partial to living at this exact moment. Not all the time, of course."

A smile was formed from the original lines, and the elder wizard seemed to visible relax. His eyes were crinkled once more, this time with pleasure. Did he approve of Harry a great deal? Apparently.

They continued their silent trek down the carpeted halls, taking a few turns, and stomping up staircases. Only a few helpful tips were voiced: trick steps were pointed out, false doorways were gestured towards, with oncoming branches possessing strange names. Only a few classrooms were visible, and it was mentioned that the school was hiding itself until their pathway was decided.

It was strange, but Harry didn't absolutely detest the idea. The strategy was clear. If none of them chose to help, they couldn't necessarily plan means of attack.

Merlin interrupted his string of casual thoughts with a slight cough, nodding carefully towards Filipia. "Ms. Forthwith has offered to take you two around the castle, as I have someone I would like to introduce Harry to."

Hermione, of course, refused to leave, and insulted their possible employer. "That's a ridiculous thought," she insisted with a frown. "We barely know you, and despite his ability to defend- really, Harry, this isn't about your wandwork- I'm sure all three of us would prefer not to be separated."

As the suggestion did not go over as well as Merlin would have imagined, the small group continued together, moving at a gentle pace. He once more returned to his tour guide ways, grimacing in a friendly manner when Luna slipped into a trick step. The bushy-haired girl quickly rescued her petite friend, and they were quickly on their way.

Their 'way' happened to be on the third floor, nearing a set of rooms that were dressed strangely, red and gold cutting off the cool blue tones. Each portrait was possessing the uncanny ability to present an almost Gryffindor-like air. Was that who they were aiming to meet? A fellow Hogwarts student, perhaps once in the DA? There was a brief wish for it to be Colin, who he had found dead during the war. Perhaps it was false, and he was alive and well. Who could it be?

The male made as if to speak, but didn't get much of a chance to ask. Almost rapidly, the headmaster had descended to the door, knocking gently. With no immediate response, his raps became a bit more insistent, until, all at once, the door was pulled open. With robes billowing behind him, a dark-locked male stepped, eyes narrowing to focus on those in front of him.

Luna, Harry, and Hermione each wore a look of shock, though it was only the second that dared to speak.

"But… You're dead!"

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><p><em>ahhh, the first cliffy of the work. i'd like to take this moment to thank <strong>HarryHermioneEdwardBella <strong>for reviewing, **Darth Void Sage of the Force**, **YukiKyo**, **Angelussjmw**, **Gizmo685**, **X14SG1 **for favoriting, and **Nym Potter**, **Angelussjmv**,_ **Pheonixplus**_for following!_

_this is actually my favorite cliffhanger of what i've written (out of like the five). i wouldn't expect another update this week, because i'm sort of stuck on one of the chapters. another major issue would be that the first chapter was around 4,000 words, but all of my others are around 2,000. i'm really having to elongate what i've written. don't be surprised if you notice them going down in quantity. (sadly, this chapter was unable to be stretched to 3, 000.) _


	4. A Sirius Glitch in the Matrix

_please consult the end for notes xoxo_

_for the anon that reviewed: which character did you consider ooc? i can't fix it if you don't tell me. :)_

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><p>"<em>A Sirius Glitch in the Matrix"<em>

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><p>"Wait a mo'! You aren't even glad I'm alive?" the man asked, while the other two simply gaped at him in silence. "Your father would be ashamed of you."<p>

Harry Potter gazed at his godfather in shock. This couldn't be true- the man was _dead_, he saw him with the others when he had the Resurrection Stone! He couldn't have just decided to come back to life. It simply didn't work like that. If it did, he would have utilized the cheat so many times.

Luna took the opportunity to speak to him, smiling in her own serene way. "Mister Black, what I believe that Harry is trying to state is that, despite his joy of seeing you once more in the realm of the living, how did you manage to escape the hands of Death?"

Sirius at least had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. He picked daintily at his black trousers, ducking his head in a rapid motion. It seemed that he was waiting for the words to blow over, wanting them to be replaced with a different subject. The crown was once more tucked to his chin, and a small sigh passed. He sat like that for a moment, clearly aiming to miss the majority of Harry's heated gaze, and Hermione's calculating looks. Luna didn't look all too peeved, and had likely already deduced how he had escaped the clutches of the afterlife. In fact, she was gazing carefully at Merlin, as if willing him to speak.

"If you really are Sirius Black," Harry stated, pressing his suddenly located wand against the man's chest. "What did you and my father call Remus' lycanthropy?"

He scoffed, but answered, understanding the sudden violence on his godson's part. They did just exit a war, and although he was likely ecstatic, sudden anger was relatively average. "His 'furry little problem'. We even mentioned it after the O.W.L.s, 'cause there were a few questions regarding it."

"And what else happened that day?" he challenged the man, but it had to have been Sirius, because the laughter at the question practically gave away the answer. Anyone else would have been enraged, or even frustrated. He saw hands moving despite the absolute amusement, and let his wand falter. Yeah, it was Sirius. Who else would still find jinxing Snape amusing?

Actually, Harry would have found it amusing himself.

That was clearly beside the point.

"Can I have a hug now, Pronglet? Or are you a bit big for that?" Black questioned, gazing at his godson. "You _are_ getting old."

Harry snorted, but threw himself into the man's arms. "I honestly don't care how you got here, Sirius, and I don't really want to ask. Let's not let destroy this moment."

"That's all rather good, Harry," Hermione interrupted. "But I would like to know."

He noticed that her tone was rather desperate, and realized that she, too, must miss the man. The summer before fifth year must have held a lot that he had missed; his godfather must have meant a lot to his friends. If only he hadn't been so _angry _that year. Apparently, a lot had gone over his head.

As Sirius pulled back from the young man, he pressed the two witches into a quick hug, before nodding gently towards the headmaster and the ghost, who were both clearly amused by the antics. Merlin seemed to quietly whisper something to Filipia, and the young woman quickly glided away, disappearing through a nearby wall.

Nobody seemed to pay this mind, however, as Harry was now gazing at the 'dead' man with a sense of awe. It was clear that he did not wish for the answer to Hermione's question; he wanted to forget that the man was dead for even a moment. There was a lot less pain that way.

The man was the link to his parents, who he had never known. His words were always useful (except for when they were involving reckless advice), and he had always been sincere in his actions. If the war had never happened, there was a definite possibility that he would have been a wonderful godfather.

It was enough to be blindsided about, if even for a moment, and the Boy-That-Won wanted nothing to do with the knowledge that it might possibly be a trick.

Luckily, Merlin took a moment to interfere, placing a gentle arm on Hermione's elbow. "Miss Granger, Harry has mentioned that he did not wish to know. I think it would be wise to speak to Professor Black later, now that the two of them have been reunited. They may wish to speak out of your hearing."

"Only because it's Sirius," Hermione muttered angrily, but linked arms with Luna. "Why didn't you say that who it was before? No need to be all mystical, sir."

He nodded gently. "My apologies."

She sniffed carefully, but ended up shrugging, jerking her head in the direction that she assumed they were traveling. "Well, never mind that. Do you have a library?"

"Of course!" Merlin exclaimed, guiding her away. The left duo spent a moment watching the trio with a small smile- the wise Gryffindor was carefully dealing out threats as they traipsed off, also mentioning the guidelines that would be required if she was to stay.

The last thing that they heard was, "and not meals prepared by house elves," before turning away from the racket, and towards one another.

Sirius looked much better than he had the last time Harry had seen him. His face was not waxy, but lit up with life, almost as peaceful as he had been in death. The only difference that he clearly noted was the dark circles beneath the man's grey eyes. It appeared as if he hadn't slept in ages, though Harry supposed that that might be normal if he worked in a school. He must have been up all night preparing lesson plans.

At least, that's what he hoped Sirius had been doing.

Before he could even state something about that, though, the man was careful to wrap Harry into another hug, steering him through the front doors of his private rooms. "How are you, Harry?"

"Do you really want to know?"

The man nodded, rubbing at his scruff with his wand arm. The other was leaned loosely against the stone wall, watching the man opposite of him. "Of course I want to know."

"Shitty. Thank Merlin- no, really- that we got invited here, though we didn't exactly know until it was too late to not be," he spat out, gazing at his godfather with a grin. "My life wasn't going like planned. We did defeat Voldemort though, as I assume you know. Ginny and I were together for a bit, but she ended up in someone else's bed. That wasn't great, but I'm here now, and that is."

"I'm truly sorry about Ginny, Harry. If I wasn't, you know, dead up there, I would hex her into oblivion."

The boy beamed at the statement, glad that someone would do anything of that nature for him. It was something that he could barely imagine. Not even Hermione was willing to do that, and Ron definitely wasn't up to it.

But Sirius was. Sirius always seemed to be.

He loved family.

"Thank you," he genuinely supplied, gazing at the man with adoration deep in his green eyes. "Really, Sirius. Thank you."

They nodded briefly at one another, not willing to partake in yet another hug. Instead, Harry made a motion to ask the animagus about the school, poking his head lightly so that he could see deeper into the man's rooms. There was almost nothing from his point of view, almost as if it had been created so that nosy students were unable to see past the threshold.

His godfather noticed the movements, and quickly led him deeper inside. As they walked, he noticed a few rooms that were filled to the brim with papers, and others that seemed to be relatively bare. And yet, another little cranny was perched in the corner, practically exploding from books, and animals were dancing from the sidelines.

What was Sirius even teaching? Harry was well aware of his prowess in both Charms and Transfiguration- but which had he been chosen to instruct in? He couldn't quite tell by the decoration. It seemed that the walls were chosen to simply represent what his parents would never let him do.

There were Gryffindor colors all around, and a sense of pride rushed through the wizard. Perhaps he could do that to his own offices. But what if he was made head of one of these organizations? No, that wouldn't happen so quickly. Not even Slughorn was quickly offered the position.

But this wasn't Hogwarts!

This was somewhere entirely new.

"You were wondering what I teach, huh?" His tone was light when he asked, and Harry grinned back at the question. "Come on, guess."

His nose twitched slightly, and addition was attempted. There were a lot of objects lying around, a lot more than he would expect for Transfiguration. However, he did notice a great deal of essays and larger books. Unless that was for enjoyment (and only Hermione found such large books pleasurable), he thought it would be a textbook.

He knew it wasn't Ancient Runes, as everything seemed to be in English. Maybe a few different languages were mixed within, but he assumed that they were the definitions of spells. Was he doing some sort of history course? No, that wasn't like the man.

Sirius smirked, insisting, "You'll never get it!" in a happy tone.

"No, I will," his godson exclaimed, glad to be able to banter with him once more. He changed his answer quickly, clicking his tongue. "You teach… Charms!"

The man laughed, and shook his head.

"Transfiguration!"

Once more, a shake.

"Neither? Damn, Sirius, what are you even teaching?"

"Technomancy," he responded with a grin. "Combines both, adds in technology. Isn't that exciting?"

Harry frowned, attempting to wrap his head around such a subject. He recalled Hermione mentioning it a few times, stating that it was one of the harder subjects taught at other schools. Beauxbatons had been on that list, as well as the Salem school. She stated that Durmstrang didn't have it due to their belief that it was similar to Magical Theory, which was apparently the theory offered by Hogwarts.

"Wicked." It was certainly something to be proud of. He thumped the man on the back, taking a closer look at the large tome that was nestled on the stone counter. "Makes sense why your books are so big. Do you really teach this to small children?"

He looked proud when he affirmed it, but appeared solemn a moment later, leaning close to the young man. How grown his godson was, and how innocent. He likely had little idea of the mysteries of the school, and simply chose to join because of his desire for a different path in life.

Sirius wanted to break it to him easy.

"Small children that are occasionally twice your age, Harry. Do you not know what this school really is?"

The young man frowned, narrowing his eyes. Lily's eyes. It was always Lily's eyes that struck him, the girl that had become like a little sister to him. "It's a school, Sirius. Is it that hard to believe?"

"Harry. It's in a time-lock. You're going to meet children that haven't even gone through the first Wizarding War!" he barked, crossing his arms. "You'll meet people that will be dead by the time you're born. And would you like to know the catch?"

No, he did not wish to know the catch. He didn't need Sirius taking away the magic of the school. He had just gotten there! Why couldn't he wait a few more months before pulling the wool off his eyes?

"Will it make Hermione convince me to leave?"

Sirius paled, but shook his head. "It isn't that bad, Harry. It's just going to make you miserable."

"Tell me tomorrow," he insisted. "Just tell me tomorrow. For now, could you simply escort me to the equivalent of the Great Hall?"

He did; they quickly exited Sirius' rooms, and Harry wished briefly that he could spend more time peeking through the man's stuff. He felt like he hadn't observed enough- what if he was missing important things? Luckily, there was a plan to meet there tomorrow morning to discuss what to do about lesson plans, as well as educate Harry and the girls a bit more in regards to the school.

The pathway to the Great Hall was unexciting, having nothing of worth in any place. In fact, he found that it must have been the same hallway that he had already been down twice, as it looked the same. He supposed that he must have been a bit too irritated to have paid better attention, or he was extremely hungry. It was past lunch, and he had skipped that meal, hadn't he?

When he entered, it was in a twirl of robes and a farewell to the man, lips pursed as he turned towards the room. It was big, much bigger than Hogwarts was, though he wasn't sure how many students it would house. In the center, almost an exact replica of his past school, sat the staff table. Encrusted with jewels, it leaned over the area, appearing like a kind father studying his children.

Hermione and Luna were nestled at a table in the corner, tucking into a meal of lamb and potatoes. Luna looked to be enjoying herself, while Hermione wore a mask of indifference. Had they not been able to service her meal as she asked? No, she was eating it. What was the problem?

He slid into the seat beside her, and heard the muttered words. "They don't have house elves, thankfully. But he won't tell me who made the bloody meal."

Ah. That would be it. Harry lifted his head from where it was bowed over his meal, and met Luna's gaze. She shrugged lightly, and stated something that sounded awfully like, "Nargles." He hoped that she was joking; he knew what they were, and they certainly didn't make lunch.

"Maybe they have an actual chef, Hermione," he offered, looking towards the lunch with a small frown. "And although I doubt that nargles could have created the meal, it is rather scrumptious."

But, as neither of his friends spoke, the wizard turned his gaze back to his food. His stomach growled before another bite could get in, and it seemed that he was going to wait a few more moments to speak.

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><p><em>i'd like to take this moment to thank <strong>HarryHermioneEdwardBella <strong>for reviewing, **Darth Void Sage of the Force**, **YukiKyo**, **Angelussjmw**, **Gizmo685**, and **X14SG1** for favoriting, and **Nym Potter**, **Angelussjmv**, **Pheonixplus**, **Empress Bambi**, ,_ _**Hewhomustdefeatdark**, **kyzhart**, **mliyanagamage**, **Monkeyman89**, **Rkwriter**, **Witchygirl88**, and **wolfey141**_ _for following!__  
><em>

_me: i wanna post a new chapter  
>me: charly you useless potato finish the next one first<br>me: i wanna post a new chapter  
>me: *sticks weird ending on chapter, posts a new one*<em>

_i hope you enjoyed; please review!_


	5. In the Dragon

_please consult the end for notes xoxo_

_thank you to those that reviewed- your feedback is greatly appreciated!_

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><p>"<em>In the Dragon"<em>

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><p>Their late lunch, despite being a solemn affair, was wonderful. The lamb was covered in some sort of minty sauce, and Harry found himself wishing that he had eaten it a bit slower. He wasn't sure how the school's meals worked, and didn't know if he'd ever be able to have it again. <em>Which is a shame,<em> he remarked to himself, before working out that the words sounded remarkably like something Ron would say.

To keep himself from being even more identical, he swallowed the remains of his food with a gulp, before turning to Luna. "How was the tour?"

Her silvery-blonde hair glinted in the light as she turned slightly to face him better. There was awe in her eyes, and she was staring at the ceiling, which, like Hogwarts, was enchanted to reflect the outside. Wait- the castle has an outside? How was that even possible? Did they have the grounds attached with it? Would there be a Hogsmeade-like town?

"Oh, it was wonderful," Luna murmured softly. "They actually have a colony of hippogriffs, and thestrals that are trained to follow the commands of the teachers. Apparently, there's a sphinx lurking around somewhere as well."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

She shrugged lightly at him, smiling daintily. "You've already interacted with one, haven't you? I'm sure that you know of the difficulty. Besides, first-years learn what they are; it isn't a difficult magical creature. Very violent, of course, but not difficult."

Harry hoped that the students were bright enough not to seek out the sphinx.

"Anything nargle-infested?" he asked curiously, and Hermione glared at him. She was never fond of Luna's theories, only referring to them in times of need. "Or Blibbering Humdingers?"

Her brow arched, lips pursing at the question. "Why? Do you finally believe that they're true? You didn't seem to think so last month."

The wizard at least had the grace to blush, staring briefly down at the table. It was true; until last month, when Ginny had fully and truly stated that she wouldn't return, he had decided to ignore everything that Luna mentioned about her mythical creatures.

It was cruel, now that he thought about it.

"I'm one of your best friends, Luna," he replied gently. "And we're in a strange place. I was wondering if you had found something that you previously did not see."

"I did."

He looked to Hermione for confirmation, and she seemed in distress. So, they had seen something! Wondering what it could be, the man pressed his palms against the table, fingers tapping anxiously. There was silence for a few more minutes, which he broke with a low groan.

"Tell me!" Harry exclaimed. "Really, Luna! I'd like to know!"

The bookish woman next to him snorted, aiming a swift kick at him beneath the table. It was obvious that his fellow Gryffindor didn't really wish to talk about it; she was probably proven wrong. He thought that her frustration was a bit irritating. Why shouldn't Luna get a chance to talk about what she believed in? They let her talk about S.P.E.W. all the time!

"I'll tell you once Hermione's pride cools," she responded matter-of-factly, and swiftly removed herself from the table.

"Where're you going?"

Luna looked confused for a moment, but shook her head. "We decided to find Merlin after we ate; we finally came to a conclusion as to what we were going to do. At least, I have."

"I have as well."

He certainly hoped that it would be similar to his own, but the two females left him no time to ask. Hermione was as swift as Luna was in exiting, and he practically had to jog in order to keep up with his friends. They seemed excited, though he noted that Hermione was relatively grim. Was she still bugged about being incorrect?

It had took a few weeks for her to reconnect with Harry after he had mentioned the flaws in one of her laws, and they didn't speak for a week. He oped that it wasn't going to be like that. Maybe he'd hole up with Sirius for the time it took for the two to make up.

At a second glance, though, they did not seem so irritated with one another. They were walking together, only pausing occasionally to pay attention to the scenery and exchange a few facts. Harry, who was simply following their lead, chose to forgo watching their behavior and attempt to map out the majority of their path. It was fascinating, for one, and he was completely and utterly lost.

Hopefully, there was a map. He didn't wish to get lost every day of the week. That would be very, very embarrassing.

There was a right, a left, and two straights along the path. It wasn't that complicated, really. He would probably be able to find his way back, or even to Sirius' rooms. Then, there they were, standing in front of the headmaster's painting.

What were they supposed to do? Knock? Or step right in?

They chose the former, and hesitantly pressed their hands against the tapestry. Hermione's arm hit the solid mass, and did not go through like it had before. It seemed that it meant the headmaster was not in his office. The other time, they had gone completely through. What a grand idea! He decided to look up how to do that- it would be useful to create something like that. While documenting that away, he noticed that the two were speaking again.

"What should we do, Hermione?" Luna asked in a shocked voice.

The human dictionary simply shrugged, and turned on her heel. It seemed that she was aiming on appearing in a different office than he was aware of. Once more, they trailed after her, Harry now paying a great deal of care to watch the paintings on the wall.

Only some of them moved.

That was likely the strangest thing that he had seen; only few of the items maneuvered themselves around their paintings. Others stayed frozen, seemingly painted in the Muggle way. He reached out a hand to touch the material, and jumped back as his hand felt a light shock.

They were _magical_, but didn't move. He would know the electrical feeling anywhere. They were perfectly capable of moving, but chose not to.

Strange.

As they continued to walk around the empty hallway, he observed Hermione checking her hand consistently, as if she had taken notes as to their location. That wouldn't have been that shocking, but he thought it was a bit amusing that she decided to write down where to meet.

Speaking of which… "Where are we even going?"

"Your private rooms. Did you know, he's asked you to be a Head of House, too? He has a great deal of faith in you, Harry."

Luna nodded at the end of the statement, adding, "He was almost giddy over the fact that you accepted. It was a bit strange."

"He's the best wizard in the world, he doesn't have to be normal," Harry defended casually, before thinking over the prize. He was in charge of an entire grouping of students! How strange! How wonderful, too. He tried to remind himself to thank the man later.

"No, he doesn't. It would be nice, though."

Hermione finished her statement on a definitive note, before looking carefully at one of the large portraits. It was of a very familiar dragon; the Norwegian Ridgeback. The beast was proudly poised, much like one would find a prince or king posing. His head was gently leaning to the side, and fire danced in black eyes. Once more, the magical quality tainted the air, but the painting did not moved. It simply did not move.

"You'll have to set up a password for the Common Room later, as well as charm the room to enter only for you. It's like the Headmaster's," Luna casually stated, leaning up against the wall. Hermione nodded, and tapped out a simple series of beats, which caused the dragon to open up its mouth. With a low roar, it parted its lips, and the trio suddenly found themselves face-to-face with a large section of rooms quite similar to Sirius'.

It was undecorated, and relatively unpleasing for his eyes to gaze at. However, Hermione was striding inside, her eyes staring forcibly at some sort of parchment that was lying on one of the counters. He hoped it was directions for furniture; he wasn't quite looking forward to sleeping on the ground.

Never mind that, he did have the rest of the day to figure everything out.

"What's that?" he asked Hermione, practically pleading for it to be a description of how to decorate.

She frowned, looking at the paper with narrowed eyes. "Merlin left you a note. Apparently, he's out for the rest of the day."

"Mind reading it out loud, Hermione? I can't see it over Harry Potter's gigantic head."

Harry turned to glare teasingly towards his friend, but stopped, as it seemed that Hermione was going to read the note, as she was clearing her throat in an Umbridge-esque way. They all giggled for a few moments before regaining strength, but her tone remained high-pitched as she went through the motions.

"Miss Granger, Luna, and Harry: I deeply apologize for practically abandoning you during your luncheon. It was unintended, an incident occurred that needed to be quickly rectified. One of the staff happened to notice a chink in our wards, and I have traveled to see what it was. That does not mean that I am in the castle, however. Please make yourselves at home for the time being, and perhaps you could add some décor to the rooms? In addition, I have left you our own 'Hogwarts: A History', though aptly named, 'Cadmus for Fools'. I hope you find it an entertaining read. Sincerely, Merlinus Kratos."

"A chink in the wards? Isn't that daunting?" Luna repeated, checking over the note with an amused gaze. "I do like his style."

"His style?"

Hermione shook her head, as if aghast at the thickness of Harry's spoken words. He had apparently missed something, which was a shame. Living in the dark wasn't something that anyone was fond of. His lips were pursed in irritation, and the man attempted to steal back the letter, wondering he had missed something that was important. It might be a code.

"He wanted to give you space," the irate witch muttered, and he noticed that even Luna was snickering at his apparent innocence.

Style indeed. Instead of offering them time alone, he gave it, and even offered reason for why he wasn't around. It was definitely a wonderful idea; all were tired from their journey and wandering. With their spare time, they could likely redecorate the rooms, and discuss what had occurred. Perhaps they could even figure out what in the world was going on.

Hermione obviously chose that they should discuss first, decorate second. On the contrary, their Ravenclaw friend stated that as they didn't appear to be in any obvious danger, they should decorate and ward first, discuss and plan second. Harry wanted to do both at the simultaneously, but was told that the idea was ridiculous.

They ended up warding, first, and conjuring up a few chairs.

Obviously, their seating was well-made, as Luna had already begun to plot out the exact design of the rooms. It seemed that she left space to add more books and paintings. The witch had mentioned that they could likely find a way to take a few paintings from his own home, and place it inside his rooms. Maybe, they could find a portrait of Dumbledore, and put it on the wall. Or his parents! Upon the finishing touches (the paling of the wood, as well as twisting it to appear more lovely), the trio sat quickly down, spreading their hands out along the counter.

He spoke first, when they were seated, lips twitching lightly into a grin. "So… What a predicament we have found ourselves in. What are we going to do?"

"Leave, of course," Hermione sniffed, and he saw the red in her eyes. "Others would miss us."

Luna spoke with reason- "He could always return us a minute after we disappeared, Hermione."

"But that doesn't matter! We'll be a whole year older! _Someone _will notice _something _is amiss! Anyhow, he didn't mention having History of Magic in the school's education, which I find to be a bit of a warning. Also, Harry, you did miss something that sounded odd. He said that they were select in who they decided to teach. At _Slytherin's _school! It's a bloody sign!"

She was right. That was a bit of a thing to be shocked about. But in her History of Magic complaint…

"You can't teach History to those who are witnessing it in the present, 'Mione," grumbled their other friend, who seemed a bit peeved. "The universe doesn't work like that."

Harry frowned, and asked, "Wouldn't that just be Divination, then?"

"No. Divination is different. I could look into my future, and someone in the class could be present in it. It won't break the boundaries of time. Teaching about the future, though…"

"Half of these kids will come from the future," he interrupted, Hermione nodding behind him. "What do we do about that?"

She tipped her head lightly, and seemed to acknowledge his frustration. It was a lot to take in, and only Luna seemed to be understanding. He couldn't quite tell how, though. There was something in her that aided in understanding the more frustrating things.

_I wonder if they do something to the children, _he thought suddenly, a bit skeptical. _Something that prevents them from saying things that would hurt others._

"An Unbreakable Vow?"

Hermione gasped, and her hands flew to her cheeks. "No! They wouldn't! They're _children_! You can't subject children to that! They'll accidentally spill a bit, and then, what happens? They die! No, it's too ghastly."

"Sirius wants to talk to us tomorrow. We can ask then, right? I'm sure it isn't something that bad, Hermione."

It was echoed between them, the statement. Harry waved away that part of the discussion with his hand, but the elder female attempted to bring it up again, much to the chagrin of the others. They only wanted to see the light, which was understandable. Why couldn't this simply be a miracle? However, she was going to get the last word. "If I hear one word that I don't like, Harry..."

He smiled, though, at this. "But you'll stay?"

"I will," Luna stated simply. She seemed to be surprised by her own answer, but grinned quickly. There seemed to be a bit of Gryffindor in the graduated Ravenclaw.

Hermione, on the other hand, paled.

"Hermione?"

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><p><em>thank you to those that favorited and followed- i don't want to make about 1,000 words of each chapter pertained to who followed and favorited. however, i would like to express my surprise and gratitude to all of you. i didn't think i'd get this much feedback and appreciation! <em>

_i'm off to disney on friday- i won't be able to update for about a week. i hope you don't forget about me! i'll be back as soon as possible._

_agh. it takes me forever to edit chapters._


	6. Here with Me

_please consult the end for notes xoxo_

_thank you to those that reviewed- your feedback is greatly appreciated!_

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><p>"<em>Here with Me<em>_"_

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><p>Hermione was briefly silent, regarding her friends with narrowed eyes. It seemed that she knew of the peer pressure likely to follow with the incorrect answer, but was going to stay on her own plans if she had to. It wasn't their lives to meddle in.<p>

And they _were _trying to meddle and manipulate. What if she wanted to stay with Ron? She adored him, and they were slowly but surely moving forwards in their relationship. Placing everything that they had worked towards on hold was both rude and terrifying. They were doing so well.

Especially after the war. Directly after the Battle of Hogwarts, she had clung to him in a sense of misery and confusion. They got better together; slowly, but surely. They had visited Muggle psychiatry sessions, escaping the world for many weeks at a time. She completed her studies abroad, and Ron had apparated to Auror training during the day, choosing a non-magical evening.

When Harry had instantly assumed that she was crying over Ron earlier, he hadn't been completely wrong. She had been crying over Ron's insistence that his friendship with the 'Chosen One' was over. He had been downright miserable, upset that the nonsense over Ginny had forced their friendship to be destroyed completely.

There wasn't much of a reason for her to blame Harry, though. The war had broken absolutely everyone. She and her boyfriend had attempted to fix it, while their friend was barely swimming along. They both knew that Ginny had simply been explaining her problems to Malfoy, when she became overwhelmed and dissolved into sobs. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened prior to that (the girl became distant, and unwilling to discuss it with anyone but Harry). Had her significant other stayed, they would have solved their problems.

Even Luna and Neville had agreed that a conclusion would have been easier to find if he wasn't so appalled. So why was she staying? Did she think that he needed help to continue living? He had Sirius now.

"Hermione?"

She frowned, the crease between her brows growing. They needed an answer; they needed to know that she was thinking of leaving. Her life didn't need to be put on hold for something that could fall through. "Yes?"

"You're staying?" Luna misinterpreted, her lips tugging into a wide grin. "Oh, thank Merlin! I thought you were going to leave."

The woman fidgeted, which went unnoticed by her two friends. They were simply too ecstatic about her decision to remain with them. It was both amusing and irritating, with her lack of desire to practically stab at their bubble of dreams and wishes.

"Only if I can owl Ron consistently…?"

Harry pointedly ignored that, now dancing a strange jig with Luna. They skipped easily around the counter, nearly knocking Hermione off of her seat with their weightless hands. She ducked again as they returned the same way, smiling gently as they continued their strange dance.

Curse her weak, loving heart. No wonder she was placed in Gryffindor, and not in calculating Ravenclaw. Surely, she would have left due to the illogical sense of the school. However, her bravery and stupid loyalty held strong.

Damn.

"When do you think that we can tell Merlin?" Harry wondered, grinning wildly. "Now?"

Their blonde friend scoffed, reaching up to hit him across the back of the head in a familiar gesture. His lips parted slightly to question the retrieval of such a punishment, before realizing that they had already discussed the issue previously.

"He's the best wizard in the world, Potter. I do believe that he'll be able to figure it out," she reassured him, looking towards the Gryffindor girl with an arched brow. She too echoed the confirmed words.

"Yeah, Harry. Maybe our rooms will be connected, too."

There was a smirk present on the Boy-That-Won's face, his eyes speaking volumes as he listened to the two. They were excited to stay! He would have never guessed that even Hermione would wish to remain in the strange world, but it must have been her Gryffindor side that forced her to remain. She could claim all that she wanted that she was half-Ravenclaw, but she was loyal beyond belief. There was a reason the hat placed her in their house.

After the moment of silence and adoration, a pair of hands grabbed for the manual, looking it over with a short laugh. Luna, flipping through the beginning pages, exclaimed, "It looks like Hogwarts: A History!" in a soft voice. She seemed to be reminiscing, and the two silently echoed that.

It was around that moment that his heartache grew, though it had been brewing for around half of the day. He was missing Hogwarts, his only home. Since the war, he had been unable to even enter the Great Hall, seeing too many villains in the darkness. His favorite place, his happy place, had become the demon that plagued his dreams. But it would always carry warm memories. Hogwarts was where he had found his friends, where he had learned that he was much, much more than a freak.

Harry turned carefully away from the book, shaking his head. He didn't need another Hogwarts, nor another book to be studied extensively. He needed a break, a long, deep sleep that would only end when he ceased feeling numb.

"Oh! We need to read it now," the bushy-haired female stated, leaning over Luna's shoulder. She was briefly scanning over the tome, connecting the words that were presented. "Right now. That way, we'll be prepared. Perhaps it might explain the layout of the castle."

From where he had broken himself off, the wizard attempted to restrain a snort. What they really needed to do was figure out things they didn't know about the school itself. Getting lost was not really that dangerous; they did have a few weeks to get used to the halls. It wasn't like there were only a few days left before the start of term. "Look at how they split up the students, first."

It took a few minutes of flipping before finding the correct section (as there was an argument over using the index versus the table of contents). When they did, Hermione practically burst from excitement. The documentation was extremely long and well detailed.

The pair refused to let her read it though, as she would become lost in the words and try to elaborate on each statement. Luna would have done it, but Harry had quickly returned from his drawn out memory, scooping the tome from her hands.

He easily skipped a few pages. "Five houses," was the mumbled beginning, before he resisted the urge to snort. "You have to pledge to a house? And there's one that's essentially useless. Students only join if they're against pledging, and it's a rag-tag bunch."

"Five? Merlin's beard, that's a lot!"

"Five. They all are named after dragons- that's pretty cool. Common Welsh Green is the one I mentioned before. The firsties go there to begin, before they pledge themselves to another house. Some stay, though, as they find the system crude. Apparently, they can only compete in Quidditch if they have enough members. The others are Opaleye, Ridgeback, Ironbelly, and Horntail," he continued. "Opaleye seem to be a lot like the dramatic purebloods- elegant, non-confrontational, and they're strong in Charms and Potions. Ridgeback is for the loyal ones, and they're both quick learners and proud. They seem to be a bit like Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

"Ironbelly has the mysterious and surprising fellows, and the Horntails are pretty nasty, but the book says they have a sweet side. I'm not believing it." It was with a harsh little frown that he finished his reading, looking over the next chapter.

Luna seemed a bit peeved at the introductions to the groups, edging onto her tiptoes so that she could see if that was exactly what the book said. She found that they weren't close at all; Harry only picked out the basic descriptions.

"They don't have a Sorting Hat?" she wondered aloud, still on her toes.

"No."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, watching with suspicion. "Well, why not?"

"Apparently, they want children to decide their futures. I wager there's some sort of ritual they do to figure out where they'll go. Maybe Merlin meets with them."

"Perhaps they have some mythical creature decide for them," Luna stated dreamily, her hands twisting in the air. "I would choose a kneazle, who would point in the direction of their correct pathway. Crookshanks would be perfect for that job, wouldn't he, Hermione?"

The Gryffindor witch arched a brow, mimicking picking up the cat, as if he was next to her. Then, she gave a small gasp of feigned surprise, before pretending to be searching for the animal.

Harry dissolved into bursts of laughter, and Luna looked shocked for a moment, before realizing the suggestion was practically useless.

A few moments passed with them like this, each unwilling to relinquish the small happiness that was transported before them. When it seemed that they were about to finish their snickering, someone would mime petting the invisible cat, and it would set them off once more.

They passed the rest of the day in that manner, pouring over the tome and comparing the ideas to their alma mater. For a while, they were finding the differences astounding, but by the time that they were able to finish, even the changes seemed of a bit more relevance than some of their Hogwarts rules.

Obviously, they still had the Trace. Apparently, that was instituted by the Hogwarts founders, and Salazar Slytherin continued its existence within his next school. 'For the sake of historical accuracy', the book had stated. That was another matter that they thought was strange: the different time periods that collided.

Apparently, by giving the students a whole week before their education began, they were able to communicate with one another more clearly. Hermione hadn't been certain that it would be enough, mentioning that the culture shock would be too great for the children to discuss anything with one another. To begin, their clothing and etiquette would be much, much different. Then, there was the possibility of a slang barrier.

And how were they to teach _anything _without breaking the future?

They all resolved to discuss it the next day with Merlin, or perhaps even Sirius. One of them would know, and be able to understand it a bit more clearly.

At seven thirty that evening, a meal magically appeared on their counter: shrimp and broccoli rabe in pasta, garlic sauce on top. It was accompanied by a deep red wine, and some sort of tart for desert, which Harry truly wished was treacle tart.

"Who do you think makes the food?" Luna murmured as they sat down to eat it, pulling a plate towards her claimed corner. She plucked up a string of spaghetti, twirling it between her fingers. After a moment of observing it, she felt around for her fork, shoveling food into her mouth.

Hermione crinkled her nose, looking at the food with suspicious eyes. "Better not be house elves. I didn't pass so many laws to see that they still haven't been passed. Isn't this under the jurisdiction of the Ministry?"

"Not sure."

The wizard tilted his head, chewing pensively on a piece of seafood, casually mentioning the elections that were coming up- that they possibly would miss. He was still a bit hazy about the whole time travelling thing.

A face was made, and the youngest of them rubbed her chin slightly. "Maybe they have their own set of laws, specialized for a pocket universe. Don't you wonder if they have their own villages, like Hogsmeade?"

"Do you suppose they have their own shopping center? And where do you reckon that is?" Hermione questioned, tilting her head slightly. She was apparently immersing herself into this new school, transfiguring a pencil from her silverware in order to understand better.

There was a shared shrug, and the book was poured over once more.

Harry quoted a page as they scanned: "Salazar Slytherin, founder of the school, is often the one who administers the exams at the end of the year. Much like his former school, Hogwarts, career path examinations are set at the end of a student's fifth year of study, though that is where the similarity ends. As their classes differ, there is a great deal of theory involved, and although they still are required to perform spells in front of a judge, it is the Head or Salazar himself that judge the children.

In regards to general exams, however, they are set by the teacher themselves, only after it has been verified as challenging. Usually, these exams have a mixture of written portions and performances, with extra points awarded for more extensive knowledge and flourishes."

There was a bit more, but as the Boy-That-Survived tossed the manual back to the females, he let the rest fade off. Instead, he was thinking of the words. He was in charge of creating exams? And what happened to those that failed? It wasn't something he was quite ready to think about.

Clearly, the two girls weren't ready to discuss it either. As they shoveled more food in their mouths, there was yet another argument over the possibility of slaves (which only frustrated Hermione more), which ended up into an extremely heated discussion. Luna took the side of Merlin, while Harry mediated.

They continued to discuss the issue after dinner (making the tension from earlier a bit more relevant), forcing all to make a decision about turning in early. Each were still grateful for the fact that they hadn't been completely overwhelmed, at least, not yet. With small mutters of 'good night', Harry wandered towards the couch, letting Hermione and Luna bunk in his large bed for the night.

He found a small blanket presented, and casually wondered about it. Although he knew that Merlin stated that there was a lack of house elves, he had to wonder who was doing all of these chores. Another question came to mind, too, now that he was thinking of this. Were they being watched at all times? Or was it the castle itself?

As Harry wasn't Luna, he was unable to tell if the castle was a living being. That was a ridiculous thought, though. The castle couldn't be _real_!

Scoffing, the man rolled into a ball, tugging the warm blanket over his body. It was with a dramatic sigh that he finally fell asleep, glasses shoved unceremoniously to the side table.

Everything would have to be dealt with tomorrow.

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><p><em>i'm finally done with school for this semester! thank the lord- i ended up with three a's, and one b, which was in anatomy. <em>

_i'm actually surprised at the communities this is being placed in; you guys do know this isn't a harry x hermione story, right? i mean, unless someone can provide me with an adequate fanfiction of that pairing. i haven't found any that i enjoyed; one even had them adopting a child, which made me cringe a bit due to their ages. _

_i hope you all have a lovely finals week (for some i do believe it's coming up), and a lovely holiday season! i don't know when i will post the next chapter; i have driving lessons and family coming._


	7. Down the Beaten Path

_please consult the end for notes xoxo_

_thank you to those that reviewed- your feedback is greatly appreciated!_

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><p><em>"Down the Beaten Path"<em>

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><p>He was running.<p>

The wind whipped eagerly about the man's feet, clawing at his ankles to rouse the trepidation that coursed through his every aching breath. Despite the desperation in his steps, not even a league was traveled, leaving him exactly where he had started- deep within the woods.

Trees loomed over his every step, leaves whistling in the eerie wind that followed his breaths. A few owls cooed their presence, and a low screech brought him to his heels, scraping against the ground. What was that?

His head whipped to the side, and fringe fell into his gaze, brushed away with shaky digits. There was a gap in the plants, marked by a strange pathway created by the cleared grass. It was visibly beckoning him, stretching forward as his feet scooted back. It wanted him to join the others on the path…

But why?

The screech came again, and he flung himself on the pathway, scampering and slipping through the gravel. Feet hit against the small rocks, and slid along the small stream. He fell; rust was scented, and rage poured from his mouth in the form of hissed phrases.

Something was there, though, that kept him running. A presence accompanied the shriek. It shrieked into his mind, whirling about. Despite the will to dart away, he was pulled back, whether by circumstance or by fear. It was all around him. He was surrounded.

And, almost as sudden as it came, he was awake. Lips were parched, and Harry Potter felt around the couch for his glasses, shoving them onto his forehead with a groan. His throat was parched, heart racing. The dream had felt very, very real. It left him groggy and sweaty, with fingers tugging through dark strands of hair, and eyes flickering slowly around his surroundings.

Where was this? He wasn't in his flat. He was in a strange apartment, where dark shadows loomed overhead. Panic initially took over, and his wand was instantly placed between his phalanges. Then, realization pressed eagerly to his cheeks. Ah, yes. That was where he was.

Cadmus School of Arcane Magic. It was a rush, recalling everything that had ensued the day before. He had been whipped out of his home in a mere matter of seconds, and spent the rest of the day attempting to go through the motions in an easy manner. Why had he not fought back?

Hermione had mentioned it before- depression and post-traumatic stress. Before Ron and he had argued, he had joked that it was something Moody certainly possessed. No, he wasn't joking; he had been serious.

Post-traumatic stress. He understood the meaning, but doubted it occurred in his own mind. He was Harry-Freaking-Potter, after all.

The thought did not escape his mind, though, when he found himself suspiciously checking the wards, and settling against the table for a few minutes. It was still present as he found a bathroom, and washed up. When the water brushed against his swollen lips, he regarded the mirror with a sense of irritation.

He was fine. He wasn't under any type of stress, and was, in fact, very relaxed at the moment.

His friends (and ex-friends) were being ridiculous.

"Ridiculous indeed," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. An attempt was made to flatten down the back, which never worked. "I'm perfectly fine. Isn't it visible?"

"Not particularly," Luna remarked dryly, having just wandered into the kitchen. She was still in a daze, her eyes barely focusing as she slid into a chair. Harry wondered briefly how she managed that, as he consistently stumbled over things despite being awake for hours.

She pulled out her wand, and tapped it against the stove. "You always look stony," was the continuation, and without even a summoning charm, she found eggs in the refrigerator. "And troubled. If you are fine, Harry, you don't appear that way."

He ignored the comment, watching as she fixed breakfast. Learning how to cook was still on his list of things 'to learn', despite having watched Hermione do it for at least a year. It was just something that he was rubbish at, like chess.

A spoon stirred the mixture, which was now salted and seasoned. She dropped a bit of cheese in it, and sniffed, stirring it once more. The flame was lifted, and his lips trembled with the warm scent. Even if it wasn't close to being complete, the smell was wonderful.

"I could smile more?"

The offer was ignored, and they spent a few minutes in silence, staring at the flames together. She did notice he attempted to be a bit brighter, smiling at her back. The warmth was felt; Harry did believe that he was perfectly alright. It was, in her opinion, perfectly fine. She was attempting to do the same. Of course, there was an obvious difference. The war had done away with a few of her theories. They were only ever kept up for appearances, now.

Why did her ideas need to be tainted? They were so wonderful; she was going to find those creatures! Now, she had nothing!

At least she had her friends.

The eggs were presented among three separate china plates, the outer rims decorated in gold, blue, and red. It was a strange color combination, but fit eerily with the large rooms. Apparently, the strange spirits of the school were attempting to make the apartments a bit more homely.

"These're brilliant, Luna!" Harry declared, shoveling a large forkful into his mouth. "Yeh're brilln't!"

He sounded remarkably like Hagrid as he spoke, and Luna couldn't help but laugh. At that moment, Hermione decided to enter the room, probably awoken by the smell of eggs. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and it almost looked like she was crying. Concern quickly touched the pair's eyes, before she shook her head, and smiled.

The wizard placed a hand on her arm, squeezing the skin gently. "Do you want to…?"

"No."

He tilted his head, murmuring, "You sure?" in a soft tone. It was only at her insistent head shake that he continued with his food, the girls sleepily sitting next to him. They each devoured their eggs at a rapid pace, and it wasn't long before Luna had darted into the bathroom to clean up.

"Would you like to discuss it now?"

It seemed that he had cornered her, staring with his brows furrowed, arms crossed. They were across the room from one another- Harry had claimed a spot on one of the couches, leaning over their reference book, while she was pressed easily up against the armchair, tending briefly to the fire, as it was cold in the room.

"Yeah," she breathed, sitting up. She pressed a hand to her aching back, and a few popping sounds hit the air. "Yeah, sure. Just keep your mind open, for me. Don't attack first."

He swallowed. "When do I do that?"

"Harry, you always attack Ron before I can explain anything."

"Fair enough," he mumbled, but sat back, gesturing for his friend to go on. The sounds of Luna's shower-humming distracted them briefly, but Hermione dove into her story, fingering her wand gently.

"I'm not sure that I should take the job, Harry. It seems to be out of my way, and I don't wish to be a year older each time that I visit Ron. The years will catch up to me, won't they? Anyway, you've always been a teacher. I'm sure I won't be that grand at it. But that's beside the point. I actually wanted to talk about Ginny. Is that alright with you?"

"No, it isn't alright! And you'll be a lovely teacher, Hermione!"

She smiled weakly. "Harry, we need to talk about her. Is there any reason that you instantly believed Malfoy over your girlfriend? She's a Gryffindor, like us. Loyalty and bravery, right? Oh, well, Hufflepuff is more loyalty. But when have the Weasley's ever given up on you? Ron was devastated. Did you know, he actually sided with you? He hasn't talked to Ginny since."

They were silent for a moment.

"He misses you, Harry. You broke it off between both of them, but you didn't need to. IF Ginny had done something, you should have been done with _her_, not him!"

His lips pulled back in a frown, and anger twitched in green eyes. "What if she did do something, though!"

"There would have been signs," Hermione countered quickly, tapping off on her fingers. "Different cologne on her hair, secretive phone calls… Oh, bugger it. If she did cheat, then that was a damn rotten thing to do, and she deserved to be put out. But Ron didn't, Harry!"

"He's turned on me before, Hermione! Fourth year, he thought that I had put my name in the Goblet. I could name a few other times, too. He left us in the bloody forest! And you _love _him?"

Hermione turned red, standing up instantly. A few items around them whisked around in the air, and he instantly recalled something that had been said for years- the brightest witch of her ages. Wouldn't she also be the most powerful?

"**WHAT **did you say?!"

"Hermione," he interjected, but she brushed off his words.

"**HARRY JAMES POTTER!**"

Luna's whistling stopped.

"Why shouldn't I love him? He **cares **about me, he **loves **me! We realized that things might not be healthy, and do you know what we did? We went to a **counselor **that can **help**! Nothing got buried inside! We talk about Fred, about George, and we **HELP **one another get through things. We may be opposites, but why should that matter?! I thought you were my friend! I thought that you** CARED **too!"

The furniture was creaking, the cabinets were rattling, the shower was shrieking. Her magic overflowed into the room, and items danced within the air, begging to be sent towards the wizard, who was now seriously thinking over the words.

He croaked out an apology, casting his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry, Hermione. Really. I didn't think you felt so strongly; erm, well, I did… I just…"

"You didn't think, that's all!" she shouted, and disappeared back into the room she had slept in, slamming the door.

Their dreamy friend wandered into the room a few minutes later, hair dripping wet. She was wrapped in a towel, and glanced at Harry in a suspicious way. "Why?" was all she asked, utilizing a venomous tone that he had never heard before. A minute later, she disappeared into the room with Hermione, probably to offer words that he was unable to provide.

Harry decided that it was probably time to go visit Sirius.

Best to give both of them time to calm down, and then proceed to divulge exactly how to rectify the situation.

The major difficulty was how he was exactly supposed to find the man's rooms. Although he was there the day before, he didn't map out exactly where they were. He could barely recall. Had there been a specific location that he should have kept in mind?

He chose the "Point Me" charm instead, hoping that it would tack on to some signal of Sirius'. Being unsure as to how it worked, exactly, he found himself wandering aimlessly around the paved hallways.

And then, he ended up having a rather strange conversation with Salazar Slytherin.

A portrait, of course. The picture was placed strangely, large enough to be a doorway. With everything that Harry had seen previously, he wouldn't be shocked if it was, indeed, a doorway. He had attempted to walk straight through the doorway.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man frantically stated, running a hand nervously through his hair. There was no response. "No, really. I don't have my bearings around the school yet, sir." He had recognized Slytherin immediately, and didn't wish to anger him. He probably had a temper like Hermione.

A brow was arched. "Have you not found the maps?"

"Er... No. There were maps?"

He snickered in response, and Harry frowned. "Of course I made maps. Rowena, the dolt, she was all for allowing students the time to get lost. Godric was a bastard- he thought it amusing."

"You and Madame Hufflepuff, sir?"

The portrait nodded, made a humming noise, and then offered confirmation. "Yes, yes. Well, I'm assuming you mean to be off. You're in the wrong direction."

"Really?" Harry mused, albeit sarcastically. "I wouldn't have been able to guess."

Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Go down two halls, and take a left, then a right."

"And how do you know where I'm going, sir?"

"Wild guess, my boy," he replied, much like Professor Dumbledore would.

The man shrugged, and went to turn. As an afterthought, he added, "Thank you, Professor, for your help. May I ask one more thing, though?"

"I suppose."

"What are you hiding?"

A snort. "None of your business. Off with you now, Mister Potter."

He went without another word, bowing his head as he did. Hopefully, Sirius would have some answers.

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><p><em>i apologize for the length of time that it took for me to continue this story. i was a bit disorganized, and also attempted to read the many stories that were recommended. thank you, harmonie shippers! although i won't tell you if it's endgame, i did appreciate your help. however, i can promise the romione has ended. my original idea to include ron was practically a deus ex machina. <em>

_please review! _


	8. Exponential Decay

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><p><em>"Exponential Decay"<em>

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><p>Fingers rapped gently onto Sirius' door, tentative but insistent. Within, the man was brushing out his hair, which was still wet from a shower. He was easy in his steps towards the door, confident that it was indeed his godson. It was still quite early, but he had asked the child to meet him. No, Harry wasn't a child any longer. He had grown, quite figuratively (as he was still very short) into a brilliant individual. The idea made the wizard quite proud.<p>

And upset, as he had missed a great deal of the war, being locked in the school.

"Ah, pup," he warmly stated, staring down at the stony-faced young man. A touch of concern wormed its way into his eyes, and Sirius stepped back. "What's the matter?"

Harry didn't quite respond, but pushed past him, moving towards one of the many books surrounding this place. It was moved to the side, and he took solace in the place it had originally been sat. He was determined, it seemed, to get to the bottom of the school's mystery. "Alright. What is going on?"

"Had a chat with Salazar, did you?"

His lips curled downwards, and the Boy-Who-Barely-Survived-Hermione's-Wrath shifted in his seat. How had Sirius known? It wasn't like he was being extremely obvious about it. Or did Slytherin's painting seek him out? Or, rather, had he gotten himself lost in the perfect manner?

"Perhaps," he admitted. A strangely civil chat, too. He hoped that it wasn't something that always occurred. The man's monster had attacked him! Seriously, though. Who decides to put a Basilisk inside as school? Someone insane.

Sirius smirked, shaking his head. With his wand, there was a flick, and the appearance of another chair. His large frame settled in it, and a finger scratched at his chin. Droplets from the shake settled around him, and hit Harry on the nose. "I'm sure it wasn't a bad conversation. Don't believe the hype."

"The belief he's an egomaniac with blood supremacy ideals?"

He arched a brow dryly. "Did he seem so when you talked to him?"

"Er, no? But he's a painting. No ideas, right?" Harry questioned.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders, leaning forward to whisper the next statement. "Guess what that means, then? Gryffindor _lied_." His eyes were filled with mirth, which was matched with the green-gaze of frustration. He had come for answers, only to have more questions!

_Why couldn't I have a more helpful godfather?_

But a thought was caressing his cheek, whispering in repetition what Sirius had said. Gryffindor lied? About what? Why Slytherin had left the school? Maybe he left because they didn't get along. He had called his friend a few nasty names. But was it fondly? He couldn't recall.

Strange.

Unless he had meant it was regarding the painting. Harry understood that such a lesson was a part of Technomancy- that much he recalled from Hermione's endless lecturing. But regarding the exact lesson, he wasn't quite sure. It wasn't really his forte.

"Or the portrait had it's memory boggled." Such an idea seemed cruel, but he was still loyal to Dumbledore in this way. Gryffindor wasn't bad! He'd been told that as soon as he learned of Hogwarts. Gryffindor was good, Slytherin was evil. "Does that ever happen?"

The statement made Sirius shudder. "No. But it is strange that you'd stick to such an idea."

"Loyalty, I guess?"

His second brow arched, meeting the first. "Harry, I don't suppose you were ever to be put in Hufflepuff," the man countered, pulling one leg to rest on his knee.

"No, not quite. Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. Not hard-working in the least, am I?" Harry admitted. This conversation was steering far away from where he wished it to go. It was pulled back with effort. "Sirius, what _was_ it that you had to tell me?"

There was silence. Apparently, Sirius really didn't wish to talk about whatever it is he had to say. Harry recalled it to be something that might seem upsetting. But was it something that was horrible? Could it have to do with Slytherin?

And still he stalled. His godfather pushed himself from the chair, walked around the area, and returned with a bit of salad. Then, he promptly dug into it.

A shout of irritation burbled from his throat ("_HEY!_"), but it was ignored. Then, he went off to put away the plates. The wizard glared so dangerously that he supposed he looked like Hermione, and then Sirius finally settled himself once more.

"Brat."

"Excuse me. Is that any way to talk to your elders?"

Non-apologetically, Harry offered, "Sir Brat."

"Better. So, Merlin chooses from a wide array of students. You understand that much, yeah?"

A nod.

"Good. He has a list- somehow similar to the Sorting Hat, which then writes up the most powerful wizards and children in Time, depending on where the school chooses to place itself for the day. It scans every book, lesson, story. Not all of them even come for the United Kingdom. A bit are from Africa, Asia, and South America. We get a lot less North Americans- they all just go to Salem or that other school. Then, another list is drawn up, eliminating the kids that aren't able to be taken from their timelines. You were placed on the first, but taken out of the second. It's why he's so excited. You appeared again on the second after the war, but you're much too old to be a student."

Sirius took a breath, then continued, "Which is why you're here. But here's where the problem lies. We can't leave. You can't, Hermione can't, Luna can't. The students can; they aren't tethered here. This is the only thing keeping us alive. Sure, once Merlin trusts you enough, he'll let you off. That isn't the worse, though."

Harry didn't think it was that bad.

"None of the students here can get standard jobs. They don't have the proper papers, ya know? 'Cause they were here, which doesn't really quite exist. So, Merlin is trying to build a new society."

Harry still didn't find it to be that bad. Merlin didn't seem to be someone that was terrible, not a Voldemort character at all. "I think I'm missing the point."

"Well, I'm sure you'll get it soon enough."

"I think I'm going to quote Luna on this: 'how daunting'," he yawned out, fanning the words from his lips. "Is that it? I've another question."

A bothered frown attached to Sirius' lips. "You're being awfully cruel this morning, Harry."

"I've made Hermione mad," he responded, picking up the book he had originally shoved away. It was cradled gently in his arm, the title flicked over. At least it looked interesting, but very thick. Hopefully, it wasn't a textbook that was given to the younger years. "Any ideas?"

Snickering, the man shook his head. "No. I'd suggest you stop being an arse to her, though."

"I haven't been!"

Sirius shook his head slightly. "You've been strangely unfeeling since I've seen you. If that's been the same around them, I'm not shocked she's pissed."

A glare. Then, "It's about Ron!"

"I'm sure it's not just about Ron," was the objection, and apparently, that was more than enough. His godfather apparently had had enough of him, and was now ushering Harry out of the room.

His feet scuffed, and the man was attempting to wrestle himself back into the room. Sirius, who noticed, pulled out his wand, and marched Harry out. Bother. "Can I come back later?"

"Not unless you've taken a walk!" the man called, shoving him out of the door.

It was barely thirty minutes after he had started his escapade. This was visibly causing a ruckus in his thoughts. He had visited Sirius for nothing! He gained nothing, except for the fact that he was not quite going to be allowed to make an escape. Which was fine, but not for Hermione.

Perhaps he'd keep her from knowing that. Besides, once she got back into the swing of an education, he didn't doubt that she was going to spend most of her free time in the library. She likely wouldn't even think of leaving.

He didn't think Luna would hate being stuck. She'd take it as a place to learn new things. Maybe she'd join Hermione in the library. Maybe she'd bother Merlin until he told her absolutely everything. Harry supposed that he might join her in that escapade.

And, speaking of Merlin, what was the deal with that man? He pressed a hand to his forehead, leaning on Sirius' door. There was something strange about him. He seemed much too young to be the famed Merlin. Could it be a ruse?

Or, even worse, could it be possible that the things he had learned about Merlin were faked? The man had enough beauty to be a Lockhart-character. It was probable.

But he did seem so genuine. The others weren't shocked by him, were they? He thought to ask, but remembered that Hermione was mad at him, and Luna likely as well.

With them in mind, he wondered if he was indeed being an ass to both of them. "I didn't think so!" The exclamation traveled, and Harry blushed to the empty hallway. Which, in turn, snickered, a few of the portraits finding his sudden explosion amusing.

Which spun him into another strand of thoughts. What if Hermione, Luna, and Sirius were all right? What if there was something off about the way he had been acting? Did he have another... Horcrux?

Harry gulped. He didn't think he was acting strange. What if, like was previously stated, he did need to get some help? He had been ignoring such accusations for a long, long time. It could be possible.

Mental health had never been something he was worried about as the Boy-Who-Lived. Surely someone else might have found it worrisome that he had never seen a counselor (Hermione, namely), but it hadn't seemed imperative. Some of Uncle Vernon's hisses might have caught in his brain, the parts of his anger which were easier to fidget away from.

He had grown up believing that only 'crazy' people went to psychologists, psychiatrists, and counselors. In elementary school, going to the counselor only meant that you were barmy. It had nothing to do with being stressed, frightened, and unable to make decisions.

Could it be possible that he was that bad at making decisions that he had ignored some of the people that could help him?

_But what could they have done? _His lips pulled back into a frown, hands twisting and turning around themselves. _They wouldn't have gotten me out of the Dursleys. Everyone thought I was bad news!_

A small voice in the back of his mind stirred. _All the more reason to have gone, hmm?_

What about now, though? How was he supposed to tell someone that he felt that the war was his fault? They couldn't say it wasn't. His parents' death had rustled a chain of events that would never be changed. The fact that he was only a child when it happened was useless.

As he mulled, the young man, a mere boy in his thoughts, moved towards the Great Hall, steps echoing in the hallway. His friends were mad at him; would they a bit calmer if he admitted he required help? Or was it his words that made them upset rather than his actions?

And, could his words refute his actions? Or vise versa? Harry truly hadn't meant to upset Hermione to the point that he had. His constant putting down of her relationship must have gotten tiresome. It was very rude of him to think otherwise.

Then, what was Luna going to do about this? He knew that she would be split. She usually was when they argued. Would she cast it upon herself to decide who had the upper hand in decision making, and choose to side with them?

Nothing was fair. He decided this the instant that he was old enough to think, remember. The thought rushed back to him now as he walked, forcing itself in the front of his brain. This was his fault, his battle. Attempting to make amends with those scarred and scared young women was going to be extremely difficult.

If only he wasn't such an asshole.

Harry almost murmured it outright, but kept down the vile thoughts, a look of darkness on his face. It wasn't _fair_. It wasn't fair! Why wasn't it fair?!

"Fairness is a mark of weakness."

The wizard started; he hadn't realized that the last few statements ended up being spoken aloud. And to top it, he had managed to walk into a materializing ghost. With a cold shock rustling his body, he took a quick step back, watching the way that the ghost moved.

It was an individual of unknown content. They had not yet fully materialized, probably discomforted by Harry's sudden appearance inside their stomach. Paired with the squinted eyes was a distinct shade of gray- no, quite a few shades of gray. At least fifty.

His dried lips were softened by his tongue. "Sorry, I didn't realize. What were you saying?" Harry quirked a brow as it finally registered. "No, I don't believe that. Fairness is the mark of a good person."

"I disagree, Harry Potter," the ghost mysteriously stated. Sheer shades levitated in front of him, battle armor and fingers gesturing in wild motions. "A good leader knows fairness is inevitable. Have you read Les Miserables?"

"No?"

There was a snort. "You should. It's very good."

Harry was much to concerned with the fact that the ghost knew his name to exclaim something in regards to not having a reading list, _as he just defeated a Dark Lord, remember_? "How do you know...?"

"Who you are? Who doesn't."

Swallowing, he asked, "Could I at least know your name?"

"Cy," they said, and became almost corporeal. "Of Ironbelly House."

He thought over the name briefly, figuring it must be a shortened version. "A pleasure to meet you, Cy."

"Likewise, Harry Potter. Now, I must escort you to the Great Hall. There is a staff meeting of sorts."

A smile touched Harry's lips. "Ah, good. I was just heading that way."

"No, you weren't. You're facing the wrong direction."

"Shit."


End file.
